


That Burnt Out Spot

by rust_and_stardust



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, alternative universe, best friends to enemies to lovers, photographer!sander, rockstar!robbe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rust_and_stardust/pseuds/rust_and_stardust
Summary: Robbe and Sander are best friend, until Sander decides he wants something more. Their ways part until four years after, they meet again and Robbe’s became one of the world’s most famous rockstars.
Relationships: Aaron Jacobs/Amber Snoeckx, Jens Stoffels/Lucas van der Heijden, Noor Bauwens/Moyo Makadi, Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans, Senne De Smet/Zoë Loockx
Comments: 149
Kudos: 133





	1. 21:21

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back and I couldn’t be more excited! I know this chapter won’t tell you a lot about this story, yet, but trust me! You’ll get soon a glimpse of this brand new universe.  
> Enjoy ;)

Sander snorted, looking at his image reflected in his half-empty glass of beer. He ran his fingers through his platinum blonde hair and glanced back at the street outside the window.  
He was waiting for Robbe, his best friend, to celebrate their last night together.  
Not that it would be the last time they were actually spending together, but the next day, Sander would move to the other side of Antwerp, and seeing each other wouldn't be as easy as ever.  
Robbe and Sander had been friends since forever. They lived in the same neighborhood and had bonded deeply from the first time they spoke. Sander had seen that skinny child with those huge, frightened, doe-eyes and immediately wanted to share all of his toys, just to impress him.

But that evening was different because Sander had decided to turn the table. To go all-in before it was too late.  
Robbe didn't know, but in Sander's mind, that wasn't just one of their usual meetings. That was going to be their first date.  
The boy had everything planned because he wanted to impress Robbe. He wanted to make him understand how important he was to him, to show him how things could be in their near future together as boyfriends.  
One day, during a trip to Sander’s grandparent's beach house, something had changed between them. Maybe in the supermarket, while they were out shopping, or maybe in that tiny kitchen, while they were preparing lunch for everyone.  
Croques, obviously. It was one of their many traditions.  
It had all felt so intimate and familiar, and Sander wanted it to be like that for the rest of his life.

So he had prepared their first date down to the smallest detail, full of a thousand surprises and romantic activities, hoping that Robbe would understand.

At that moment Sander was sitting alone in their favorite pub, the Barracuda, and there was no sign of Robbe anywhere.  
He sent the umpteenth unread message, starting to feel a bit of anxiety and disappointment kicking in.  
He closed his eyes, trying to isolate himself from the noise of the club and focus only on the music coming out of the speakers behind the counter, but the song was unfamiliar and didn't help him at all, thus his attempt to relax a bit failed miserably.

He began to tap his fingers frantically on the dark wood of the table, looking desperately for the smallest distraction to help calm his nerves, when the door opened, finally revealing Robbe's figure: red cheeks, and unkempt hair.  
As usual, the most beautiful creature Sander had ever seen.  
The boy was short of breath, and when his eyes met Sander's, he gave him a small mortified smile and went to the table, waving his skinny hands.

“Why are you so late? I texted you a million times!” He said, holding his phone to prove Robbe his point. Their chat was opened with numerous unread messages on the screen.

“Sorry! I had a flat tire and my phone died.” Robbe sat down on the stool opposite Sander's and stole his glass, swallowing large gulps of beer to quench his thirst. He set it down on the table with a thud.

Meanwhile, Sander followed his every move, as if he was expecting some surprising revelation. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments, both observing the other's familiar features.

“Rooobiiin!” Sander chanted, tilting his head to both sides, slightly pursing his lips in a small pout. “You ruined my surprise! I planned so many things, but now it's too late for most of them.”

Robbe rolled his eyes, at his best friend's manners. It was fun to see him react in such a dramatic way to the smallest inconveniences in life, but that evening there was something strange about him. The light in his eyes was different. The frantic way he moved wasn’t familiar. He seemed to have something uncomfortable inside him, that he was trying to get rid of in every way.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He sighed, running his fingers through his dark brown curls, turning his gaze to the waiter, begging with his eyes to join them as soon as possible. He needed a drink, but above all, he needed to put an end to that conversation.

Sander noticed Robbe's sudden change and realized that he was probably pushing him too close to his limit. It was the last thing he needed that evening. So he brought out his big guns, looking at his friend with the biggest puppy eyes, and he whispered softly. “It's our last night together.”

Robbe tilted his head to one side, moved by that sudden insecurity. It was rare to see Sander that way. He was always wearing a swagger mask. He looked at the world with a constant mocking smile, as if what was happening around, couldn't reach him. Sander had the look of a young god that fell to earth to laugh at humankind. He knew that despite everything, he would always be unbothered by all of that chaos.

“It's not, Sander. I'm gonna be by your side forever.”  
“It's a promise, right? No matter what happens.”

There was a strange urgency in those words as if something mysterious was about to happen. Robbe frowned, narrowing his eyes, trying to read his best friend's secret agenda. Sometimes it was very easy for him, other times every effort was completely vain. But it was always like this with Sander.  
Black or white.  
All or nothing.

“Yeah. No matter what, you're stuck with me forever.”

“Good.” Sander smiled again, happy with that answer and Robbe finally relaxed on his stool. “I need something to drink after your interrogation.”  
At those words, Sander jumped up and picked his leather jacket, starting to put it back on. “Let's get out of here, then.” He said, looking at Robbe and nodding his head towards the door. “I'll buy you something on our way to your surprise.”

-

Scanning through the bottles of alcohol on the racks of the small grocery store he was in, Sander tried to quickly think about what to get. What would have made that evening memorable?  
He didn't want to get Robbe drunk. Both of them have to remember their first kiss, without having to dig up their memories in the fog caused by alcohol. 

Robbe liked whiskey, Sander knew it, as he knew everything about him, after all. From his favorite color to his first celebrity crush (Orange and Leonardo di Caprio, for the record).  
He took in his hands the whiskey in front of him, pondering what to do, but sighed shortly after, putting it back on the shelf. He couldn't risk it, even if in that way, Robbe wouldn’t have been completely satisfied.  
Sander tried to make up for it, focusing on quantity, starting to fill his basket with cans of drinks, whose names were mostly foreign to him. There had to be something unbelievably good among all of them. It was statistically impossible that all of those drinks sucked.  
He bit his lip nervously, still wandering his gaze on the products, praying that a brilliant idea would pop in his brain, something that would make him irresistible, lovable, interesting, surprising, in Robbe's eyes, but nothing happened. He took a couple more cans and threw them in the basket, making them slam against the others he had already taken, and hurried to the cashier to pay.

-

Luckily, Robbe was able to fix the tire of his bike, because, from the commitment and determination that Sander was proving to carry out his plan, the boy was convinced that his best friend would force him to carry his bike on his shoulders and walk like that through the city, just to get where he wanted.  
At that moment Robbe was standing outside a small grocery store. The cold evening air was tingling his skin, starting to go through the layers of his clothes, and making him shiver. He hoped to warm up a bit by drinking whatever Sander was buying in the shop.  
The sudden sound of the bell over the door of the shop brought him back to reality. He lifted his face to see Sander's bright smile, who was holding a plastic bag and swinging it triumphantly.

“I hope you like gin-tonic, or rum and cola.”  
“You know I'm more of a whiskey man.” Robbe began rummaging in the bag Sander was holding open in front of him. He pulled out a red can, opening it.  
“Cheers.” Robbe said, winking at his best friend, that immediately felt his head spin as if he were already slightly tipsy without having drunk a drop of alcohol. He scrambled to pull out the first can, he found in the bag, not paying much attention to what it was, and banging it against Robbe's.

“Cheers.”

They drank in silence, smiling at each other, excitedly. The air that evening was electric, full of new possibilities.  
“Do you know what I want?” Robbe asked, and the other raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “Real gin-tonic?” Sander joked.

When Robbe's gaze lingered on Sander, looking him from head to toe, eloquently, the boy struggled not to choke on the sip of whatever drink he was swallowing. Probably the tension and adrenaline, he was feeling, were mocking him, because it almost seemed that Robbe was flirting with him, and nothing could have prepared Sander for the sentence that came out of those lips that he had imagined kissing for so long. 

“No, better.”

It took him a while to come back to his senses, leaving those words hover in the air, letting them find their own space in that meaningful moment. Sander felt like he was on the edge of a canyon, about to jump, without knowing if he had the strength in his legs to get to the other side. But it was time to take that leap of faith. “Come.”

He got back on his bike, with his heart pounding in his chest and a smile on his lips that he absolutely couldn’t hide. He began to pedal, turning back to look at Robbe, who was watching him curious and amused.

“What's the plan?” Robbe yelled in his direction, quickly getting on his bike, trying to reach him.

“Just come. It's a surprise.”

That night, the city seemed to belong to them. It was like fate had bowed to their will and forced all the citizens of Antwerp to return home earlier. There was no one around, and in the streets echoed the carefree laughter of the two boys.  
They went through the Sint-Annatunnel, which was completely deserted. The humid air hit their face as they raced at full speed on their bikes, screaming their happiness at the top of their lungs. They crossed the river, to the residential area, and Sander led them to an old building, where he stopped abruptly, dropping his bike to the ground, without even trying to lock it somewhere safe. Robbe watched him, with his brow furrowed, breathing heavily.

“Sander, what are we doing here?”

Robbe got off his bike, hiding it among the bushes, and reached Sander, who in the meantime had begun to fumble with the chain that was locking the building's entrance.  
He knew that Sander lately needed time to be alone, and in those moments he roamed the city, exploring unusual places and taking pictures, but Robbe had never been invited to any of those private places.

“Just a second.”  
“Someone will see us.”

The heavy chain fell to the ground with a thud, and Sander turned triumphantly, spreading his arms as if he wanted to be acclaimed, with that arrogant smile on his lips, even more dazzling than usual.  
Robbe shook his head because, despite the terror of being caught, he knew he couldn't resist the boy in front of him. He would follow him to the moon and back.

“Come.”

Sander held out his hand, and Robbe grabbed it, being sucked into the dark interior of the building. 

“Where the fuck are we?”

The light from Sander's phone flash lightened up the stairs in front of them, and they both started running up, urgently, as if someone was chasing them to the top.  
At the end of their race, there was another door waiting for them, this time, however, Sander just lower the handle to open it, finally unfolding the surprise before their eyes.

“Sander. Fuck.”


	2. Orionis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! How are you guys? I hope everything is good!  
> Here I am with another chapter, and I’m so excited for this! Thank you so much for all the love you are already giving to this story!  
> See you at the end :)

“Sander. Fuck.” 

Robbe let his gaze wander over what his best friend had prepared just for him. They were on the roof of the building, which had been decorated with hundreds of small lights and candles. A huge sleeping bag and heavy blankets were laying on the floor. All illuminated by the pale light of the starry sky. 

It was like having the universe’s eyes on them. Sander looked at Robbe, unable to take his gaze off him, trying to steal every little expression, and thinking of what he could have done to make that evening even more special. 

Then, suddenly, Robbe threw himself into Sander's arms, tying his wrists behind his neck. “Thank you.”

Sander thought he might have kissed him in that exact moment, as they were looking into each other’s eyes, smiling like idiots. He could have erased the distance by simply moving his face forward a few inches, and pulling the other by his hips, which he was holding. 

Being hugged like that was like coming home after a long, stressful day. It was comfortable, warm, perfect, and just right. There was nothing in Sander's mind that was telling him not to do it, not to ruin that wonderful friendship by trying to add other feelings to it. 

But something kept him from taking another small step forward. He brushed a lock of hair from Robbe's forehead, with his fingers lingering on the other’s warm skin, and took his hand. “Come.”

They lay down in the sleeping bag and Sander covered them both with the blankets he had brought. The boys remained silent for a while, with their noses up and their gaze turned towards the starry sky. They were breathing softly, both afraid of interrupting that perfect moment, surrounded by that comforting silence, only two deeply connected individuals can share. 

“Remember when we were kids and we used to do this all the time?”

“Yeah. Your dad taught us everything about the stars.” Sander smiled, happy to have someone to share those perfect memories with. There was no better thing than having grown up with Robbe. He hoped that everything would stay that way for the rest of their lives. 

Robbe stretched his arm up, pointing his finger towards the sky. “That’s my star, right? It's Rigel, and the other one it's Betelgeuse, yours. The brightest stars in the sky. Are we still getting them tattooed when I turn eighteen?” 

He waited a few seconds, pondering over that little detail in his memory, hoping his best friend would remember that piece of their childhood puzzle as well.  
Robbe turned his face, just to find himself mirrored in the two green oceans that were Sander’s eyes. He had an expression of pure bliss on his face.

“Sander?”  
“Hm?”  
“Why are you staring at me?”  
“I'm so happy I grew up with you by my side.”

Robbe rolled onto his side, tucking an arm under his head as a pillow. He looked at his best friend straight into his eyes and smiled almost shyly. Having Sander's eyes on him like that shouldn't have made him feel so excited, yet something was happening that night. “Hi.”

Sander came closer, placing one hand on Robbe’s cheek, gently caressing his skin with his thumb. His gaze was full of feelings, but they all looked different. He sighed, closing his eyes, before speaking.

“Robbe, I don’t wanna lose you.”  
“Me neither.”

He rubbed the other's nose with his own, feeling his heart in his throat. A million new possibilities were opening up in front of him because Robbe hadn’t tried to back down. On the contrary, it seemed like he wanted to be as close as possible, and the reason had nothing to do with the cold weather of that night.

“Can I kiss you?”

Robbe quickly nodded, and mentally called himself an idiot for doing it that way, as if he hadn't been waiting for anything else his entire life.

It was true, though. He had waited for that moment for so long, and it was happening just before their paths were about to part. 

Sander placed a hand on the other's cheek and covered the distance that was separating them, flaunting confidence he didn't know he had. The boy wasn't sure his knees would support him if he wasn’t lying in the sleeping bag, but there was no doubt that if Robbe had touched him anywhere, he’d clearly feel his heartbeat echoing fast and dull like his body was just another desert building. 

But the truth was, that inside him nothing was empty anymore, because he had never felt so alive before, so in turmoil, so reactive. As if every cell in his body were ready to run.

At first, it was a shy kiss, because neither of them was able to command their lips to stop smiling and engage in what they were doing. But then, when Robbe slipped his fingers through Sander's hair, pulling them urgently to get closer, to savor him better, opening his mouth, Sander couldn’t help but let a moan escape from his lips and meet Robbe's tongue with his own. 

When the boys parted to catch their breath, they both looked at each other in disbelief at what had just happened, and suddenly they started laughing. A joyful, explosive laugh, irrepressible and contagious, that comes straight from the heart. 

“I was so scared of being rejected, San.”  
“Me too. I stayed up every night for a month, planning all of this.”

Robbe really couldn't believe his ears, his eyes, or his senses in general. He pressed his lips back against Sander's, because, in that kiss, he wanted to convey everything he was feeling at that moment. The other immediately opened his mouth and Robbe deepened the kiss, licking into it, and Sander moaned again, making Robbe want to go on forever, because, after all, he didn't need to breathe that much.

When they finally decided to let go of each other, they both had red and shiny lips. Robbe rubbed his nose on Sander’s neck, purring like a cat against his warm skin.

“I want you. All of you.” He whispered, looking at the other. His eyes were dark with desire, his pupils dilated.

Sander felt shivers running up his spine, and it took all the willpower he had in his body not to throw himself on Robbe's lips again. “I thought you wanted to spend time with me because I'm hilarious, and an extremely good friend, but it turns out you just wanted my body after all.”

In response, Robbe pushed Sander away, placing his open hand on his face, trying not to laugh. “Shut up, you dumbass. You're ruining the mood.”

Sander loved to embarrass Robbe in that way, and if it had been a different moment, he would have continued until the other was reduced to an embarrassed bundle of nerves, but that night, his feelings had completely taken over him. He tilted his head to the side and bit his lip, looking Robbe with a smile full of love. He reached out to touch his cheek with his long fingers. 

“I want you too.” He whispered softly, almost imperceptibly. “But I don't have condoms with me. I didn't think I would need them.”

“I have a condom.” Robbe answered naturally, without batting an eye. 

Sander suddenly blushed, taken aback by the sudden bravado of the other. “Oh my god, Robbe!” He croaked, burying his face in his hands. 

They both burst out laughing, hugging each other. Probably, all of that would have been embarrassing between two other people, but they were Robbe and Sander, and their friendship was still there. 

“Okay, let's be serious for a sec. Have you ever…”

Robbe shook his head, not taking his eyes off the other. “You know I haven’t.” 

Sander was strangely happy with that answer, and what it would mean for both of them. “I think we should wait. We need to talk first, to understand what we like.” He brushed a lock of hair from Robbe's forehead, who pouted like a child. 

“I like you.”

Sander smiled, feeling his heart melt in his chest. He thought he was used to Robbe, and his manners, always so sweet and loving, but at that moment everything was amplified. 

“Don't do this to me, please. We have all the time in the world to get there, and besides, we don't have lube, and I'm pretty sure it would be fucking painful without it.” 

Robbe looked down, feeling rejected. “Okay.” He said in such a small voice that Sander couldn't resist anymore. 

He sat up and quickly began to get rid of his clothes, under the questioning gaze of the other. 

“What are you doing? I thought…”  
“It's not always all the way or no way, Robbe.”  
“Come back here, silly.” 

And so he did. 

Completely naked, he slipped into the sleeping bag, immediately colliding with Robbe's lips, and they both began fumbling with the boy's clothes to remove them until there was nothing left to divide their bodies. 

Being there, skin against skin, was a new sensation for both of them. It was all so warm, comfortable, and sexy at the same time.  
But being so close, literally, one on top of the other wasn't still enough, and they both clung with their fingers to every part of the other's body they could reach. Their legs tangled together, and no one could distinguish where one began and the other ended.  
They kept kissing and grinding against each other. Both seemed to be running after something, which was just there, but at the same time kept slipping from their reach, until Sander closed his fist, holding them together, and that something finally stopped, getting closer and closer with every thrust, while their moans grew louder and the grip on the hair became firmer.

When they both managed to catch their breath, Sander was lying between Robbe's legs, with his head resting on the other’s chest. His ear pressed to the boy’s heart, and he could hear it beating. That peaceful, steady sound filled him, gently rocking him to sleep. But he didn't want to give in to that feeling. He wanted to stay present and enjoy every moment of that happiness. 

“In how many universes are we lying like this together right now?”

Robbe smiled, pressing a kiss on Sander's forehead as he ran his fingers through his platinum blonde hair. “Infinite many.”

“Nowhere as happy as we are.” Sander replied, closing his eyes, but showing Robbe the most sincere and sweet smile he was capable of. 

He was sure that no other human being, in all universes, would ever feel as happy, loved, and protected as he was feeling in that moment. Not even another version of himself. 

He held Robbe closer and raised his face to press a kiss on his throat, while the other whispered. “I wish this feeling would never stop.”

“Neither do I.” 

They remained silent, enjoying that moment of pure magic until Sander shivered slightly because, despite the sleeping bag and the blankets he had brought, the night was getting colder and maybe it was time to start going home. 

“How are you, cutie? Aren't you cold or it's just me?”  
“I'm great. A bit cold but still so fucking happy.”

Sander smiled, running his fingers through Robbe's hair, enjoying their closeness. Finally, he could just stop and look at his best friend without the fear that the other would find it strange, without worrying that his own feelings would be discovered.

“Me too. But I think we should get going. I don't wanna get you sick.” 

Robbe frowned as he gently ran his fingers along Sander's back as if he was trying to memorize every little detail. “Please, can we stay a bit longer? I don't wanna go home. It's a mess there. My mom's mental health is getting bad again and I can’t wait to leave for good. I know it’s horrible to say, but she can really be a burden. It's too much to handle for me sometimes.”

Sander froze, listening to those words, while he felt his heart shattered. It was all too good to be true. That one could never be his actual life. He just had a taste of what he would never have.

If it was too much for Robbe to deal with his mother's illness, how could he…

Maybe Sander should have talked about it before. He shouldn't have kept that secret for himself.  
But how could he tell anyone about it, if he hadn't learned to accept it himself yet?  
Robbe's fingers caressing his cheek brought him back to reality. He was trying to read his thoughts, observing every little expression on his face. It was something they did often. 

“Or we can just go if you need to go back.” He added, a bit unsure.

Sander shook his head and kissed Robbe’s lips. “We can stay here a bit longer.”

Sander decided to allow himself to live a few more hours in that perfect reality, where he could finally be happy, wrapped in the arms of the person he loved most in the world. He rested his head on Robbe's chest again, trying to focus on the sound of his heartbeat, hoping to be quickly lulled into a thoughtless sleep. 

It was almost dawn when he woke up from a nightmare. His heart was pounding and he was short of breath. The boy felt like a civil war starting in his head.  
He couldn't focus on the present. Sander felt suffocated as a thousand incoherent thoughts, impulses, and sudden cravings were taking hold of him. He wanted to cry out of frustration, because it was happening again, and the timing couldn’t be more wrong. 

Sander tried to breathe normally, and stay focused as much as he could to do what he knew he had to. After all, Robbe's words were leaving him no other choice.  
He swallowed, trying to sit up, without waking the boy who was sleeping peacefully next to him.  
He had to surrender to his fate, just after getting a taste of how perfect his life could be if he just were normal. 

When Sander was ready to move, he felt terribly at the thought of Robbe waking up alone, and a lump gradually formed in his throat, while his eyes became shiny.  
He managed to slip his body out of Robbe's warm, comforting grip, and stood up, retrieving his clothes, quickly putting them back on. 

He felt an hourglass on his head, and the weight of every grain of sand in it, was settling on his shoulders. He knelt beside Robbe's body and covered him better with the blankets, hoping he wouldn't get cold on that mid-autumn night. 

Sander pressed his lips to his forehead, stroking his soft curls, and stood up, swallowing a sob. 

He looked one last time at that perfect boy he was so in love with and smiled sadly when the other buried his head more under the blankets. 

“Goodbye.”

He whispered, turning away from him as he let his mind take over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, what do you think, guys?  
> I tried to depict their love and friendship in the purest way I could and I hope you also were able to feel their emotions as much as I did while writing this chapter.  
> I am really curious to hear your opinions!


	3. Four years later: Robbe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thanks for being here again this week! This chapter takes place four years later and follows Robbe in one of his days as a rockstar. See you at the end!

Robbe hadn't stepped foot in Antwerp for months. He had a complicated relationship with his hometown since everything that was in it had turned into a pile of bitter memories.  
Memories belong to the past, and Robbe didn't like looking behind his shoulder. All he wanted to focus on was the near future.

By the time the train began to slow down, the boy already recognized the familiar features of the station that had already greeted him many times, since he and the band had signed a record deal with an international label.

None of them had expected to become famous when they uploaded their first video on YouTube, in which Robbe and his friends played a messy cover of one of Harry Styles’ hit.  
It should have been a one-time thing and instead, they had started recording a different song every week, until they started to play their original stuff, and from that moment everything had changed.

Robbe wrote the lyrics, Jens took care of music and production together with Moyo and Aaron. He had never been a person of many words, but through songs, he had found his way to escape, and that had saved him many times.

That night, a concert was scheduled in Antwerp, and it was going to be a very big deal for them. Everyone had talked about it on social media and the news. Their great homecoming after a tour that had taken them around Europe.

However, at that moment, Robbe couldn't wait to get back on tour, toward the next city.  
Being back in Antwerp was a bit like a dentist appointment. It was necessary, but you know that it won’t be pleasant.

He took off his AirPods and put his pen down, holding it steady with his index and middle fingers to keep it from rolling off the table. He paused the music, tapping his cell phone screen, and looked up at Jens who was sat in front of him.

“Have you something ready for these lyrics?” He said, turning the notebook where he jotted down everything that came to his mind. It was old and a few pages were missing, but it was one of the most precious things Robbe had.

The other didn’t answer. He just kept smiling like a fool at his phone. Robbe rolled his eyes and snorted. He grabbed his friend's wrist and shook it, making Jens’s phone hit the table.

“Jens! Can you stop texting Lucas for a second and answer me? You left Amsterdam not even an hour ago!”

Jens picked up his phone, checking the screen, which luckily was still intact, then looked at Robbe half smiling. “You’ll understand when you’ll find your person.”

This gave Robbe a tremendous desire to punch him in the face, but he just shook his head and uttered those words he had already said so many times and which sounded like a mantra, as if they served more to convince himself than his interlocutor.

“I don't need a boyfriend in my life right now. And a boyfriend doesn't need me.”

Jens had an incredulous expression painted on his face, but he kept smiling as if he absolutely couldn’t believe what his best friend was saying.

“You write the most romantic shit ever and I’ve never seen you being in love. How can you do that?”

“I'm a good songwriter, I guess.” Robbe shrugged, looking down. He didn’t want to keep talking about that topic and receive other questions that would lead him to overthink and make himself vulnerable, so he quickly added. “But you still haven't answered me.”

“Yeah, yeah, a have something ready for you. I always have, don't worry.”

Jens might be in love, but he was still unbearably full of himself. Robbe picked up his notebook and closed it, putting it on his lap. It was almost time to get off the train.

“I asked the boys to have a backstage party tonight, will you join us?”

Robbe was tired, and the idea of spending another night partying didn’t thrill him at all. Plus he didn't want to see his high school friends, or anyone else.

“Come on, Robbe! Zoë, Senne, and Milan will also be there! Don’t you wanna see your old flatmates again?”

“Senne was my roommate for only a couple of months before he broke up with Zoë.”

Jens stood up, starting to collect his things, while the train began to whistle due to the braking that always precedes its arrival at the station. Robbe did the same, slipping his AirPods into his pocket.

“This doesn't answer my question.”

The boy was losing patience. He hated feeling forced to do something, he hated questions, and he hated making plans. Which was ironic since his life consisted of dense schedules and interviews. But that was work, and parties rarely were part of what Robbe wanted to do after a concert.

“I don't know, Jens! And don’t ask me again!” He replied angrily.

Jens raised his hands in surrender, his eyes widening. “Okay, but don't get mad. I just wanted to tell you about your options for the night.”

When the train stopped, finally quieting that annoying cry coming from the brakes, all the passengers lined up neatly to get out of the carriage.

Robbe usually traveled with only his backpack. The rest of his stuff was stowed in a minivan, along with musical instruments and stage clothes. He had sunglasses on his nose, a hood, and a beanie on his head hiding his long brown hair. He had let them grow and they were to his shoulders. The curls weren't as nice as when he was a teenager, but he didn't mind that wild look, and besides, around him, there were at least five people who took care of his hair. It wasn't a very big effort for him.

When he looked out of the window, he saw a group of fans gathered just outside the platform’s gate.

“Jesus Christ. They could leave us alone for once.” Robbe said, rolling his eyes, quickly looking for the fastest way to avoid that situation.

Jens frowned questioningly and followed Robbe's gaze to understand what he was talking about. It could have been anything, considering his best friend's insufferable mood.

“Don't say that. You're being so ungrateful. I love their enthusiasm. I think it's cute.”

It took Robbe very little get tired of fame, or rather, of its side effects. He simply wanted to hide on an island, and live anonymously for the rest of his life. But he couldn't. And not only because he had signed a contract that didn't allow him to take a break for the next four years, but also because, the only thing he felt capable of doing was writing songs in which very subtly, he could spill his soul. It was the only way he knew to be truly himself.

During the time, Robbe hadn’t only built a wall around himself, he had also placed thick barbed wire and a ditch with crocodiles around it, just to move everything to the center of an erupting volcano, located on a desert island, in the middle of the ocean. The real Robbe was unattainable and sometimes he wondered if that boy still existed, or if he had simply disappeared, forgotten by everyone.

“I hope the car is already outside. I don't wanna stop to take selfies. I'm not in the mood.”  
“You're never in the mood.”  
“Well, selfies are stupid.”

Jens's phone rang, and the boy answered it quickly. It was a short call, and as soon as he hung up, he turned to address his best friend.

“They sent us a couple of bodyguards to get us safely to the car.”

“Thank god.” Robbe sighed, getting off the narrow steps of the train, and as he set foot on the platform, he could already hear the screams of their fans coming from afar, becoming louder and louder. He looked around nervously and saw two well-placed men pass the gate to meet him and Jens. They were gorillas, at least a foot taller than Jens, but Robbe still wondered if they would be enough against the crowd.

At moments like that, he hardly felt like a human being anymore. Probably most of their admirers saw them as dancing monkeys, who were there just to please their cravings. To sing, perform, and take selfies.

“Hi, guys! Thank you for being here. You're so sweet to us.” Jens's voice brought him back to reality, and he found himself surrounded by at least twenty arms that held out photos, markers, and phones. They needed to get out as fast as possible.

“JENS!” He screamed, giving him a dirty look, as he grabbed the boy by the arm, dragging him while the bodyguards led their way through the crowd.

It was only ten in the morning and he was already exhausted.

Jens looked mortified at the fans and followed Robbe without making a fuss. “Sorry, he's just nervous about tonight's show. See you there!”

They managed to safely reach the dark-glassed car that was waiting for them in an alley behind the station, which was only accessible from a hidden exit. It was ironic that since they had become famous, there had been more times where they had walked in or out a place through shitty alleys, full of garbage cans, rather than luxurious entrances, adorned with red carpets.

For the first five minutes, they traveled in silence. Robbe and Jens looked out their respective windows with their backs to each other. Robbe didn't mind that situation, but he knew well that it was the calm before the storm.

“Fuck, Robbe! You’re gonna ruin everything if you keep behaving like that.” Jens exploded, turning completely towards his friend. His thick black eyebrows were almost pinned together. Seeing Jens angry was rare and anyone else would be scared of it, but Robbe didn't care. Even fighting with Jens would have been a fascinating detour from his numbing routine.

“I won’t.” He replied dryly, ending the conversation.

He was back in Antwerp for ten minutes and it was already being an awful experience.

-

Someone knocked on the door and Moyo's head peeked out of it, sporting one of his most convincing smiles.

“Robbe. Milan, Zoë, and Senne are here. They’d like to see you before the show.”

Everyone knew that Robbe hated being disturbed before a concert. He officially let everyone know that he needed to concentrate fully, to review the chords and lyrics of their songs. He had to think about what he would say on the stage to make that an unforgettable evening.

He looked at Moyo through the mirror, without turning his head, and said calmly. “I'll see them later.”

The boy didn't even try to argue, he knew very well that those were final words. He gave him the thumb up and disappeared, closing the door again.

The real reason Robbe didn't want to be disturbed was another.

He wanted to enjoy the moment before a show without distractions.

The fear of the unknown.  
Emptiness.  
Glory.  
Oblivion.  
Victory.

The outcome of that night was still uncertain and Robbe was addicted to that. He loved feeling the adrenaline flow in his body while taking the guitar, and climbing the dark stairs that led him to the stage. The screams’ explosion that preceded the beginning of a concert.  
The first few times he had been terrified, petrified. Now he couldn't help but want more. He could play ten times a day, just to have those emotions creep into his veins, over and over and over.  
The rest of the day always seemed flat and bland. He had nothing in his life that was merely comparable to that moment, and he was waiting for it, he was obsessed with it, he lived for it.

“Robbe, let's go, it’s time.”

There it was.

-

Returning to the dressing room after the show, Robbe quickly undressed, leaving a trail of clothes behind him.  
He couldn't tell if his heart was pounding in his chest or if it had stopped completely. His head was spinning and he was short of breath. He slipped under the shower, as he did every time after a show, and opened the stream of water which came out freezing cold, making him curse. He leaned his back against the tiles and trying to regain control over himself.

Robbe closed his eyes and saw the same thing he had in front of him throughout the whole concert. The ghost of the moment in which his life had gone to hell, or rather, the ghost of the last moment in which he was truly happy.

For a few seconds, the boy thought he had imagined it. Maybe the lights, the smoke, and the blasting music on stage were making him see things, because the person down there, pointing his camera straight toward the stage, couldn't be him.

But when he went backstage after the show, even if he was running and the other was a few meters away, Robbe was sure that the person he saw, was, indeed, Sander Driesen.

He was taller, had broader shoulders, and his features were sharper, but most importantly, his platinum blonde hair was gone.

Robbe wondered if Sander had recognized him too, or if he had simply been forgotten. If every single memory they share had been removed from his mind, as Robbe unsuccessfully tried to do for too long. He had tried in every way, to forget, but there had been no way. He had tried to bury everything in a box and hide it in the deepest place of his head, but that didn't work either.

Then he had begun to hate every piece of that puzzle, to hate his childhood spent with him, to hate Sander and himself, for being so easy to manipulate.  
Robbe had become an angry person. Cold, distant, and detached from the reality that surrounded him. Many would have sold their souls to the devil to get his life, full of success, fame, money, but he still couldn't be happy. All of those were just accessories to him.

The more things entered his life, the more Robbe felt empty.

He got out of the shower, tying a towel around his waist and dabbing his hair with another one.

Outside the door of his dressing room, the party had already begun. Although muffled, the music reached his ears, and Robbe didn't want to be a part of it. He didn't want to see anyone, but above all, he didn’t want to see Sander.

He didn't want to think back to that evening, bringing back all those questions that had haunted him for years. All those thoughts that had arisen, along with the pain, had ceased to exist only when a bigger one had arrived.

It consumed his soul day after day until he became the person he was.

Robbe dressed quickly, with the usual oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. He collected his things from the dressing room, stuffing them into his backpack. He put on his beanie, from which his still-damp hair was peeking out, and pulled up his hood. He wore his heavy jacket, finally took his guitar and the backpack, leaving the dressing room as he had found it.

He planned to leave the building unnoticed, run to the Uber he had previously called and go home. But, as soon as he took two steps in the direction of the exit, he heard a voice that he couldn’t ignore.

“Robbe! There you are!”  
“Hi, Zoë.”

The blonde girl hugged him tightly, and for a moment Robbe allowed himself to lose control and be just happy. That grip was the most familiar thing he'd felt in months. Closing his eyes and inhaling the girl's perfume, which hadn't changed over the years, he realized how touch-starved he actually was, but Robbe couldn't let himself to go there.

He had lived with Zoë and Milan for two years, and they had become the closest thing to a family he had ever had.

“You were great up there. How are you?”

Robbe shrugged. He didn't like answering questions, especially those made purely out of courtesy. He hated to give away pieces of himself that easily because very little was left of that.

At that gesture, Zoë looked him straight in his eyes, worried, and sighed. “Come, Milan and Senne want to see you.” She took him by the arm, and despite his protests, the girl dragged Robbe with her, among the small crowd of people who had gathered backstage.

The music was loud, and a red light illuminated the room that was looking like one of Hell’s circles, where demons have fun in the flames, drinking, flirting, and not caring about anything else in the world.

“Guys, look who's here!” Zoë yelled when she joined her boyfriend who was talking to Jens and Moyo and a couple of more people in a slightly private corner of the backstage.

Hearing Zoë's voice, the tallest of the group turned around, grinning wildly as he dramatically gestured with a cocktail in his hand.

As Milan run in his direction to say hi, Robbe saw him again.

Sander Driesen.

It was as if time decided to stop as the gazes of the two intertwined. Robbe no longer could hear the music, or perceive the crowd around him. There was only Sander, standing there.  
Robbe had imagined that moment so many times in his head that he had lost count. He had imagined going to him and screaming all his anger in his face, he had imagined kissing him with all the feeling that was left in his body, he had imagined punching him, undressing him.

He had imagined every possible scenario, in every place and moment of his life.

In every universe.

And he did none of that.

He looked away, to focus on Milan, greeted Senne and after a few minutes, he apologized and walked calmly towards the exit.

-

Robbe turned the key in the lock and opened his door. He took a couple of steps forward to enter and when he closed the door behind him, he was enveloped by the darkness, which, on other occasions, he would have found comforting.

But entering the house where he grew up and seeing it empty, kept feeding the black hole in his chest. He knew it would soon swallow him, and in moments like that, he couldn't wait for that to happen.

He turned on the light, and left his backpack and guitar in the hallway, along with his jacket and shoes. Robbe had been trying to suppress his emotions all the way back in the car. He had tried not to think about what had just happened, to turn the page, and think about something else.  
The boy decided to follow only his most primal needs, and then, driven by hunger, like a robot, he found himself in the kitchen, pulling a pot from the cupboard over the stove.  
As he watched it being filled with water in the sink, his thoughts began to resurface, and he remembered the night Sander had left him alone on that roof and how all the important things in his life had imploded one after another, after that moment.

He hadn't been able to save anything.  
Everything had slipped off like sand between his fingers.

He didn't even know why, but suddenly, he began to scream all his pain at the top of his lungs, and then he screamed again because the first time hadn’t been enough to get rid of that sense of helplessness, that emptiness that had stuck inside him.

Robbe wanted to change everything, and bring back every single person who was gone.

He slid to the ground and hid his face between his knees, crying bitter tears, because he knew that despite all the anger, the pain, and his efforts, nothing would ever be able to give him back everything he had lost.

His mother, father, Sander, and his family were all supposed to be there, celebrating that success he couldn't share with anyone. That house shouldn't have been so dark and quiet. He shouldn't have turned into a shadow of himself. He shouldn't have been so tired of living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I have to tell you. This chapter broke my heart. it was very difficult to write because I usually write Robbe as a little sunshine, and in this fic, he is very dark and different from usual. I hope you liked this change, tho. In the next chapter, we will meet the new Sander. 
> 
> As always let me know what you think, and thank you for all the lovely kudos and comments :)


	4. Four years later: Sander

Sander slowly opened his eyes and closed them again immediately. He turned on his stomach and buried his face in the soft pillow.

The previous evening he must have forgotten his bedroom door open since he could distinctly hear the noises and voices coming from the kitchen. He grunted, pulling the comforter over his head, trying to get back to sleep.

“So he didn't even show up at his exhibit?”

“Hm-hm.”

“Why?”

“Don't know, ask him.”

His mind woke up quickly when he picked up the conversation that was being held in the other room. He just wanted to close the door, put on earplugs, and pretend he didn’t exist for a little longer, but Sander knew that the thoughts in his head would only grow louder that way.

“He's so full of himself.”

“Or the opposite.”

He got up quickly, and his body was already far too responsive to have woken up just a few minutes before. He ran across the hallway, trying not to make any noise.

“Yeah, sure.”

Before entering the kitchen, Sander tried to calm down his heart a bit, avoiding paying attention to the way that those words were making him feel. 

With a loud yawn to get Senne and Zoë's attention, he walked in the room, pretending to rub his eye, as if he was still sleepy. 

“You're always so loud.” He declared, starting to open all the cabinets he could reach, not even knowing what exactly he was looking for, in the attempt to distract his roommate and his girlfriend from their previous conversation.

“It's lunchtime.”

“Says who?”

“Common sense.”

Sander was starring at the opened refrigerator in front of himself, smiling maliciously. He was so pleased with himself, and for once, he was happy with the way his mind was working, giving him the perfect comeback. 

“Common sense is not that common.”

He turned his head, dramatically raising an eyebrow, just in time to see Zoë gasp, as if she couldn't believe her ears. She rolled her eyes, set the salad bag she was holding on the kitchen counter, and shook her head.

“Why are you always so infuriating?”

“I love making people lose their shit. Especially you, Zoë. You're always so uptight.”

He liked Zoë. She was smart and true to what she believed in. She didn't change her mind according to fashions, and she made Senne happy. At first, their relationship had been pretty basic, until one day, and probably neither of them would have been able to say when, it had turned into constant bickering. 

Sander loved it, of course.

“Fuck you, Sander.”

Senne, who had begged him thousand times to stop acting like a child or he would soon find himself with a new place, was glaring at him behind his girlfriend. Sander knew he was risking to throw the only friendship he had left, out of the window, but he couldn't help it. He always tested the patience of those around him, until people left him alone. He did it all the time, with his parents too and he was sure that they would also leave him behind if they only could. 

Senne placed two soy burgers on the plates that were on the little kitchen table and kissed Zoë's cheek while she was serving the salad.

“Thanks, Senne. Wait. Let me just take a pic so I can update my stories.”

Sander couldn't believe his ears as he poured boiling water into his cup, infusing a bag of his favorite tea. “Oh Lord, really?”

“Sander,” Senne grunted through his clenched teeth.

“Shut up, you're on Instagram too. Even if you don't follow anyone.”

“That's not my Instagram. I only use it to see if my photos look good. And for the record, they always do.”

He sat at the table, next to the girl, who skeptically looked at him, while Sander swallowed his pills along with a big sip of water. Zoë turned once again her attention to her boyfriend, who was trying to hold back a laugh.

“I'm gonna pretend you don't exist.”

“Cute, just like all my exes do.”

“I wonder why.” She added, lowering her voice, but making any effort not to be heard by Sander, who in the meantime had begun to butter his rusks, giggling. “Anyways. I can't wait to go to the concert tonight.”

“Me too. I wanna see everybody. It’s been such a long time.”

Senne nodded, pouring water into his girlfriend's glass, then gently placing the bottle on the table.

“Can I come?”

Zoë turned back to look at Sander, her brow furrowed and a bewildered expression on her face.

“You don't even know them.”

He looked at Zoë questioningly from behind his cup, keeping on slowly drinking before answering. “So what? I just wanna take some new photos. Who is playing tonight?”

“De Broers.”

“Who?”

Zoë spun around to look at Senne, gesturing in Sander's direction, as if to say _see who I have to put up with?_ , and the boy laughed, shaking his head, amused by all that bickering. “Some good friends of Zoë who became very popular among teenagers. But they are great!”

Sander shrugged, eating quietly. “I'll bring earplugs, and I can get a photographer pass in no time if I can't tag along.”

Zoë rolled her eyes, feeling completely exhausted by that conversation. She felt like she was dealing with a bratty child when it came to Sander. Luckily Senne was there all the time. 

“Fine, you can come. But promise me you’ll behave.”

“Yes, dad.”

_

On an artistic level, Sander had always been very talented, and when he started his first year at the Academie, he became one of the most deserving students in a very short period. He was all his professors’ favorite, and during the last semester, he had been asked by many of them to be their assistant.

Anyone, observing him from the outside, wouldn’t have bet on him. His attitude in many areas of life was apathetic and aloof, but in the art, he put all of himself. Sander was obsessed with details. He always carried out what he had started in the best possible way. He wanted to learn more and more and to excel in everything.

Art helped him to focus when there was too much fog in his mind. It was his lighthouse in that haze.

He loved drawing exactly as much as he loved photography, but just a few were aware of it. His room was crammed with old sketchbooks, and every inch of their white paper was filled with drawings: facades of buildings, animals he had come across while wandering the streets, people, memories.

At that moment he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, finishing a sketch he had started the night before. It was something he had dreamed of, a faded shadow of a moment, that he didn't know if it was true, or just a fake memory of an evening that happened many years ago.

Sander could no longer remember well. Time and meds had messed up his memory so much, it felt like it was full of burnt-out spots, to use a photography term. The feelings of those moments were like a dazzling light, but he couldn’t recover most of their details.

He paused, closing his eyes, trying to focus on _his_ face.

There was a freckle just under the right eye, he was sure of it.

“Are you meditating?”

Sander opened his eyes again, closing the sketchbook, and then watched as Senne walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge.

“What do you want?” He asked, running his fingers through his hair. Sander hated being disturbed while he was drawing. He feared that the memory he wanted to portray would disappeared if only he stopped clinging to it. Because of this, he often spent whole nights awake, drawing, even though he shouldn’t have. But he had already given up too many important things because of _that_.

“Are you okay?”

Senne was almost embarrassed to ask him that question, and Sander could see it. It was nice that his friend cared about him, but at the same time, he hated having someone so close that he felt entitled to ask things like that as if he cared about the answer.

“I'm fine.”

“You are grumpier than usual. You didn’t show up at your fucking exhibit, and your bickering with Zoë before was quite aggressive.”

Sander looked down, feeling guilty. It was hard for him not to push people away. It was something he did often. He didn’t want to bond with people, because it made him feel vulnerable. But Senne was an exception. He had always been sympathetic and hadn't flinched when he found out about Sander’s illness.

“I- I'm sorry. I like Zoë. I just heard you guys talking about me and-” He stopped, unable to keep going, and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

Senne became serious, looking Sander in his eyes, his lips tight, as he did whenever he thought hard about something.

“Before you start, I already have a therapist, Senne. I don't need a motivational speech from you too.”

The boy snorted, rolling his eyes, and stood up, heading for the door. “I won’t ask you to apologize, but Zoë likes sunflowers.”

Sander smiled, opening his sketchbook and picking up the pencil he had dropped on the bed, starting to trace the outline of a flower, on a completely blank page.

  
_

  
The venue was full of over-excited teenagers and bored parents waiting for the concert to begin. Sander, Zoë, and Senne were definitely out of place. Sander had regretted joining the gang when it took them forty-five minutes to park the car, luckily he wasn't driving.  
  
Zoë had to meet up with Milan, her roommate, whom she talked about all the time, and when they finally managed to spot him, among the crowd, Sander didn’t expect to find himself facing a 25-year-old man, with a Dutch accent, and a quite extravagant sense of style.  
  
“Hey, Milan!” Zoë greeted him.  
  
Milan had a brisk walk and a bright smile on his lips.  
  
“Hi, Zoë.” He hugged the girl as if he hadn't seen her in years, and then turned to Senne and Sander.  
“Hi, boys, and especially to you, pretty stranger.” He added, winking at Sander and scanning him from head to toe.  
  
In a normal situation, Sander would have simply thrown him a dirty look, but that evening he had solemnly sworn to behave, and besides, there was something about Milan’s candid manners that was strangely likable to him.  
  
“Milan, this is Sander, my roommate.”  
“Enchanté.” Milan held out his hand to Sander like a queen would do with her subjects and Sander decided to play along, pretending to kiss it. “Ow! A gentleman. Nice!”  
  
Quickly, Milan returned to focus his attention on Zoë, and took her arm, starting to walk towards the entrance of the building, starting a dense conversation with her.  
  
“Zoë, can you believe everyone's here to see our baby Robbe?”  
“I feel like a proud dad.” Senne intervened, following them, along with Sander.  
  
Hearing that name, every cell in Sander's body went on alert, mentally calling himself an idiot, because that was just a fairly common name, and the city was big. It could have been anyone, but he still couldn't hold back his question.  
  
“Who's Robbe?” He asked Senne, lowering his voice.  
“Zoë and Milan ex-roommate. I lived with him too, before moving out. He's the singer.”  
  
Sander nodded, shrugging. “Cool.”  
  
He pretended to be nonchalant to those words, even though he had a billion other questions in his mind, and with his gaze, he was trying to look at every poster of the venue, to put a face to that familiar name.

_

Sander never drank alcohol or coffee, but at that moment, he wished he could feel lighter with the help of a few sips of a fruity cocktail. He was feeling a bit restless, wanting to google the band’s name to find out who the members were, but at the same time, he couldn't get his phone out of his pocket, too terrified by the thought that fate was playing with him.  
  
When they reached their seats, Sander quickly realized that he wouldn’t be able to take decent photos. He needed to move in front of the stage.

From that spot, he also would have been safe from all the teenagers and their madness.  
  
He warned Senne, promising him that at the end of the concert, they would meet again backstage, and walked towards his goal, hurrying down the bleachers, until a girl with blond straight hair caught his attention.  
  
“Why in the hell are you here, you fucking stalker? I thought I was clear enough.”  
  
“Stop screaming, psycho.” She said, taken completely by surprise. Britt, his ex, was probably just minding her business before she ran into him. “I'm not here for you. I didn’t even imagine you’d be here. Jens is my ex.” She added.  
  
Sander frowned, still suspicious. He and Britt had been together for a year until he finally managed to get out of it. The girl was breathtakingly beautiful, and very funny too, but she made him feel like he was nothing but his illness. As if that was his only trait, and being sick was all Sander was to her. His decisions, his words, and passions, weren't true enough for her, but just the result of his illness. At some point, Sander had begun to believe it, simply becoming Britt's little lap dog.  
  
“I don't know who Jens is, but I can see a pattern here. You love stalking your exes, don't you?” Sander said harshly.  
  
Everything that had happened between them had simply turned into hatred. He couldn't even distinguish when he had stopped wanting to be with Britt, from when she just convinced him of that.  
  
“I never stalked you. I just wanted to help.”  
  
It was the same thing she had been telling him for months, every time he managed to get away. Sander ended up believing that he needed to be fixed because otherwise, he would have spent the rest of his life alone. He thought he had to be grateful to Britt for wanting to be with him, after all, she was so beautiful that she could find anyone else just by snapping her fingers.  
  
“I don't need help. I don't need to be fixed. Fuck you, Britt.” He spat the last words angrily, as he walked away from her, without even looking back.

  
_

  
  
When the lights went down, and Robbe Ijzermans took the stage, Sander wanted to run away.  
He couldn’t believe that the universe was giving him such a low blow. He had sworn to himself not to enter that boy's orbit anymore, for his sake, and his whole life was based on that promise.

Sander hadn't felt like himself since that day. He had always felt like a stranger in his own skin, who didn't trust either his thoughts or his heart. He had avoided getting attached to all the people who had walked into his life, and when he had felt too vulnerable to the thought of losing those bonds, he had loosened them himself, without giving the other party a chance to reply. Sander hated revealing things about himself.  
Sometimes when he wondered if it was worth living a life like that, the answer was that all the achievements in the art field would pay him back, and if that wasn't the case, it was because he wasn't pushing himself enough.  
  
For that reason, instead of running away, to fill the void in the chest that the person in front of him had left years before, Sander did what he had always done. He took the camera and started taking one photo after another, without giving up, without taking a breath, without allowing himself to reflect on the fact that Robbe's voice was filling his ears, body, mind, and heart. He was talking to him, in a way Sander didn't think would be possible anymore. But instead of feeling the emptiness in his chest filling up, he felt it widen more and more, and his heart beating faster.  
  
When the music stopped, and the lights came back on, it took him a while to regain consciousness of reality. To put down the camera and realize what just happened.  
  


Suddenly, what he had done four years ago no longer made sense, and for that reason, he knew he had to get as far away from that place as possible, immediately.  
  
He walked towards the exit and took out his phone from his pocket to call Senne, but he had no signal, so he was forced to change direction and head backstage where they were supposed to meet.  
  


There were many people, but Zoë's platinum blonde hair wasn’t difficult to spot, despite the red glow lighting up the room. The music was blaring and it almost seemed like the concert was still going.  
  
“I'm going home.” He said bluntly, approaching Senne.  
  
The boy asked no questions, given how many times Sander had left a party shortly after its beginning, then he seemed to remember something and grabbed him by the arm.

  
“No, wait, I was talking to Moyo here and he wanted to see the photos you took tonight. The band needs a good photographer for the tour.”  
  
The one he recognized as the band's DJ smiled at him, and raised his hand in greeting.  
  
“I-” Sander started, looking for an excuse to get away quickly. He scratched his head, glancing at Senne and cursing him with his gaze.  
  
“Senne! Look who's here!”  
  
When he heard Zoë's voice behind him, he realized that the girl was gone for a few minutes. Sander automatically turned his head and realized it was too late to escape.  
  
Robbe was standing there, right in front of him and looking him straight in the eye with an indecipherable expression on his face. Sander’s ears started ringing and the thoughts in his head run faster and faster.  
  
Robbe was completely different and familiar at the same time. He had long, damp hair poking out from his beanie, the same huge doe eyes and baggy clothes swallowed his tiny body as they always had.  
  
But there was something different about him: the bright light, he was made of, wasn’t there anymore, and Sander suddenly realized that the person standing there, was no longer _his Robbe_.  
  
He was gone and this made Sander’s stomach twist. He wanted to cry for the rest of his days. All he had left of the person he had loved the most was a memory that was fading in his mind, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.  
  
“Robbe, hi!” Senne hugged him, and the boy remained still at that touch as if he wasn't used to physical contact.  
  
“So, can I see them?” Hearing Moyo's voice, Sander blinked a couple of times, trying to focus on what the other was saying.  
  
“Wha- my battery died, sorry.” It was the most pathetic excuse he could come up with, but Moyo seemed to believe it, because he shrugged, still smiling.  
  
“Too bad, send me something on Insta, then.”  
“Yeah, sure.”  
  
When Sander turned again his face to see Senne, Robbe was leaving. The usual worn-out backpack was on his shoulders and between his fingers, he was holding the handle of a guitar case.  
  
Sander walked quickly in the opposite direction, reaching the main exit of the building. When the cold air hit his face, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to come to himself. He took his phone, quickly dialed a number that he knew by heart, and waited to hear that familiar voice on the other side.  
  
“Sander, I thought-”  
“I know it's late, but I really need to see you now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don’t know who was more heartbreaking to write, but there it was Sander. What do you think? They are both so broken.  
> But things will start to move in the next chapter and I just can’t wait.  
> Also, little angst at the end. Who do you think Sander was calling?
> 
> Again, thank you so much for all the comments and kudos. You guys make me want to write even when I have absolutely no wish to get out of the bed. 
> 
> Also, if you’re interested, during past few weeks I posted some social media updates of this story. You can read them on the pinned post on my blog on Tumblr.
> 
> See you next week! x


	5. The New Photographer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! I’m sorry for this little delay but I’m not really feeling myself right now. I’m taking some time off the internet in general, and I took the writing process very slowly. I hope this chapter is decent. See you at the end.

Even that year, January seemed to last forever. The days dragged on wearily, one after the other and they all were short, dark, cold, and rainy. 

Sander couldn't see the bright side of that endless routine, but he was trying to get by without paying it much attention. He knew that despite everything, January would end sooner or later. He just had to grit his teeth and pretend nothing happened.

A week had passed since the concert, and he would have loved to say that he had gotten through the meeting with Robbe in a brilliantly, but that was not the case. He had overthought about it each second of the previous seven days and had called himself an idiot at least a thousand times for the way he acted. On the one hand, Sander thought he should have gone to Robbe to talk, but there were too many things he wanted to say, even if Robbe's reaction had been a clear _'stay away from me'_. On the other hand, he believed that things had to stay as they were, because years ago he had made a choice, and that had given Robbe a great life.

At some point, a third possibility popped up in his mind: maybe Robbe hadn’t even recognized him at all. It broke Sander’s heart into a thousand small pieces.

With a thousand question marks in his head and many more to come, Sander led his days. He still hadn't figured out if that meeting had been a curse, a blessing, or just a universe’s bad joke, but he knew that over time, he would find his answers, looking back in perspective, or at least, he hoped so.

When he finally managed to open the front door, he found himself face to face with Senne who was looking at him with an amused expression on his face. Sander ignored his roommate and sat on the ground, starting to undo his boots, mentally cursing himself for not taking the type with the zippers.

“It took you five minutes to unlock the door. It's a record!”

“That damn keys look all the same. It's not my fault.” He snorted because of a stubborn knot and lifted his face, looking at Senne. “Why in the hell are you always holding a mug? Is it stuck to your hand or something?”

Senne shook his head, taking a sip of the liquid in the cup he was holding. “I can see your therapist made you all mad today.”

Sander stood up, ungracefully kicking off his boots, and taking off his leather jacket. “It's your damn fault if I'm pissed.” He took his phone out of his pocket and showed him a few text messages. “Why did you send my photos to Moyo, and then, as if it wasn’t enough, also my number? You could just pass him my e-mail. It’s much easier to ignore people that way.”

Senne shrugged and stepped aside to let the other pass, then following him into his room.

“He asked.” He leaned against the door frame as Sander took off his beanie and sweatshirt.

“Whatever, it doesn't matter anyway.” He replied, looking his friend in his eyes, waving him out of the room.

In response, Senne sat on the bed, frowning. “Meaning?”

Sander rolled his eyes. He turned the chair of his desk to sat down, facing the other.

“Meaning, I have a past with someone in the band, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t wanna see me ever again.”

The two stayed silent for a few seconds. Sander couldn't believe he'd said it out loud after all those years of bottling up his emotions. But he trusted Senne, even if the questioning expression on his face wasn’t promising anything good.

“It's Robbe, isn't it?”

Sander shook his head, bitterly laughing. “Shit, I keep forgetting there are still straight people nowadays.”

Senne waited for his roommate to go on, without moving a single muscle. Sander didn't know why he was talking about that story he had been trying to forget for so long, yet knowing that the person in front of him was somehow connected to Robbe made him feel indebted as if he somehow owed him that explanation.

“It was four years ago, that’s all I’m telling you. It doesn’t matter now.”

Something clicked in Senne's mind as he widened his eyes, starting to shake his head as if he were completely in disbelief at what he had just realized.

“You’re the guy who broke his heart! What the fuck, Sander!”

Although that was the truth, and he knew it very well, Sander had never heard anyone else talking about what happened,in those terms. He had hurt Robbe, and that realization made him gasp.

“You don't know shit, Senne. I was in love with him. But I had just received the diagnosis and in that period his mother was sick. I couldn't be another burden. He was just sixteen.”

“You stupid bitch. You didn’t even tell him about you being bipolar!”

And for the first time since they met, Sander felt judged by his roommate. Although Senne was the most understanding and open-minded person he had ever met, he was still _normal_. He couldn't understand what it meant to live with a mental illness, and the choices Sander had to make because of it.

He turned his face, unable to look the other in the eyes. He began to think about the sixteen-year-old Robbe who had lived in his memories for all of that time. To his smile, to his kindness. He missed him dearly. He had missed him every day for the past four years, and the thought that Robbe had grown into a completely different person was destroying him.

“You know him. I’d have said that it didn’t matter if I was sick.”

“Because it didn’t! You're perfectly fine! Yes, you have a shitty temper, but it has nothing to do with you being bipolar.”

Sander felt all the confidence he had built up, wavering like a house of cards, so he decided to recite, the same words he had been repeating to himself for years, every time he had thought of going back to Robbe on his knees and begging him to forgive him.

“He already had so many responsibilities, his life was so hard.”

“So instead of being a good boyfriend and help him, you run away, making his life even more miserable, yeah, makes sense.”

Seeing what had happened from a completely different perspective, made the decision of walking away from Robbe, seem stupid and meaningless. At that time, Sander hadn’t seen a valid alternative, and he had never regretted what he had done. Yet a single person was enough to bring down that wall of certainties. Sander wasn’t convinced that he could live knowing that, by doing the most difficult thing he had ever done, had made his and Robbe’s life a living hell.

“He's a fucking rockstar now. His life is great. So everything worked out fine.”

He cut it short, standing up and gesturing for Senne to get out of his room. He wanted to be left alone. He needed to pick up the pencil and draw until all the thoughts in his head decided to calm down.

Luckily the other seemed to understand the message, and he stood up, sighing.

"Just pray that they are gonna hire you, so you can make things right with him, you moron."

-

Robbe wasn’t fully convinced that the band's lifestyle and his own, was completely unhealthy, but he knew that no human being should ever, ever, live like that, without roots, without the chance to stop for a second, without having a familiar place to return to in the evening. A place where all their belongings were always in a proper place and their clothes were hanging in the closet, not thrown in a suitcase all the time. He often wondered if, even though they seemed pretty comfortable all the time, his bandmates didn't feel the same way.

For Jens in particular, it seemed a lot easier, because whenever he was feeling particularly down, he would pick up the phone, and the next day Lucas was there, by his side. Jens didn't need a place to feel at home, he just needed to be with his boyfriend.

As in that moment, they were all chilling in a private lounge room of the airport, while they waited to catch the flight that would take them to London. Silence reigned in the room, while everyone was going through countless notifications on their social media. Except for Jens and Lucas, who were immersed in their little bubble and seemed to exchange sweet nothings with just their eyes. Jens was lying on a sofa, with his head in Lucas's lap, while he carded his fingers through Jens's hair. They were at peace with the world and, at the same time, completely alienated from it.

Robbe wondered if he would allow himself to feel that way again, sooner or later. He tried to imagine himself in Lucas's place, while he softly caressed another person's face. He closed his eyes and the figure that at first had been blurred, became clearer. Long dark lashes, the mole on his cheek, soft brown hair, tanned skin, green eyes. Whenever he tried to imagine himself next to someone, that person, whether he liked it or not, always morphed into Sander. Since they had met again in Antwerp, the thought of him had been more and more insistent and Robbe had realized that despite everything, he had never stopped wanting him, and that was just another reason to hate him more. Sander left him after their first night together, with a lot of questions and a burning desire that was consuming him from within.

Robbe opened his eyes, sighing, and ran his fingers through his hair, looking blankly at the sterile luxurious furniture of that lounge room.

“Did you guys see the pictures Senne's roommate took at our gig in Antwerp?” Moyo said, suddenly sitting up straighter. It looked like someone had just woken him from his usual morning lethargy. His eyes were shining and it seemed like he couldn’t contain himself anymore.

“Nope.” Aaron, who was sitting next to him shook his head, barely looking up from his phone.

Moyo reached out to show him his phone’s screen. “Look.”

As the others passed Moyo's phone from hand to hand, Robbe didn't even need to peek to know that the photos they were inspecting were the best thing anyone else had ever seen. He knew Sander's style. After all, he had seen him blossom and progress tremendously fast.

“Wow, he's talented!” Lucas exclaimed as he looked at the photos, from the phone Jens held in his hand.

“He's a photography genius! I googled him!”

Robbe hated the way Sander was able to collect compliments so easily. He just had to walk into a room and immediately,he had everyone's eyes on him. Even if he wasn't good at something, no one would ever notice, too bewitched by his charm.

“I think we found our man. What's his name?” Jens asked, looking at Moyo, and Robbe knew that it was his cue. He would never allow Sander to get close to him again, and above all to get something out of it in return.

“Sander Driesen, and we won’t hire him.” He firmly announced, starting a series of disjointed protests.

“What? Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Very mature of you.” Jens sat up, looking Robbe in his eyes, trying to somehow understand the reason for that veto. “Is there something personal behind?”

“Have you slept with him?” Aaron asked, getting immediately a dirty look from Robbe.

“I'm not answering to that.”

At that sentence, Moyo snorted, rolling his eyes. He stood up and took his phone from Jens' hands, slipping it into his pocket. “It's definitely a yes.”

“Look, Robbe, he's the best and we are talking about our job here. We cannot put our personal stuff before it.”

Robbe sighed, pondering Jens's words. He was right, but the idea of seeing Sander every day was already freaking him out. He was the best photographer they could work with, but the cons outweighed the pros.

Then a thought, which Robbe didn’t know if it was guided by his rational side or not, made its way into his head very convincingly, overcoming all the doubts he had. If Sander had accepted the job, Robbe would finally have been able to face him and ask him, once and for all, an explanation. He could finally obtain the closure that would allow him to move on.

No more guessing, overthinking, and unanswered questions.

Finally the truth.

“Fine, but I don't wanna him around more than necessary.”

“Deal.”

-

It wasn’t Sander’s first time in London. The city was the same foggy, gray metropolis, with its colorful details contrasting the monochrome background, that made it just perfect to be photographed. The camera lens couldn’t help but bow to that extreme beauty, and around every corner, there was something worth discovering.

Sander had been there so many times that he had his favorite spots, and every time, as in a religious ritual, he always visited the same places, observing their changes year after year. There was his favorite pub in the colorful Covent Garden, the White Lion, which made the best meat pies he had ever eaten. The modern Shoreditch, and its vintage markets full of little kitschy treasures. There also was the World's Ends in Chelsea, where Vivienne Westwood had invented Punk, and then there was a place, which was probably his favorite, and it was exactly where he was heading.

He got off at Brixton Station and channeled into the stream of people moving quickly towards the escalator. He adjusted his camera on his shoulder and waited patiently to exit the subway. When people started walking again, Sander did the same to avoid being hit by someone in the crowd.

He moved to a quieter corner of the sidewalk and looked around, trying to absorb every single detail around him, with all his senses. The noise of traffic, the smell of smog and fried food, the color of the shops and buildings.

That was where David Bowie was born and raised. The place where his inspiration had flourished. He had walked those same streets and observed the same buildings that Sander had in front of him. How many of his thoughts must have been born in that very place.

Sander crossed the street quickly, walking towards his goal, which as usual, was ignored by the passers-by, who were more interested in their phones than that breathtaking mural. 

The David Bowie Memorial was within walking distance of the subway and was one of the most exciting things Sander had ever seen. On the clear Plexiglas plate, which protected the huge colorful figure of Ziggy Stardust, there were written millions of thoughts and words of gratitude from fans that came there from all over the world, to state how much Bowie had left his mark on their lives. The first time Sander was in that place, he had been reading with tears in his eyes for hours, all those words written in a thousand different colors and languages, feeling deeply connected to all those strangers.

At that moment, there was only one person in front of the mural. He was holding a white rose, moving his gaze slowly from one side to the other. Sander stopped for a moment, and took a photo, stealing that glimpse of intimacy from the indifference of the streets of London, but when he began to approach, he realized that he knew the person in front of him.

“I can't believe we choose the same time to come here.” He said, showing off more bravado than he felt he had.

They both were facing the mural, taking in all its magnificence. 

Having Robbe so close was strange, surreal. It felt like a daydream. Sander wanted to touch him, to make sure that it wasn’t a strange trick of his mind. The two of them alone, in London, in front of a giant mural of David Bowie. It has to be a sign.

Sander sensed his heart beating in his chest so fast that if it weren't for the traffic noise, Robbe probably could have heard it too. He felt like he went back to four years ago.

It almost seemed as if his soul was being attracted to Robbe's like a magnet, and perhaps it was what had drawn them together to that spot. Sander could swear he felt that bond so distinctly, that there was no way Robbe didn't feel it too.

“Well, yeah, the universe doesn't like me that much, so I'm not surprised.” He replied sarcastically, shrugging. Those were the first words that Robbe addressed to him after all that time and they made him smile, even if there was nothing positive about them.

Sander turned in Robbe's direction, and the boy mimed the gesture. They looked at each other in silence. There were so many things, they could have said, but Sander didn't dare to do it. He still didn't know what kind of relationship he wanted from the person in front of him.

“Hi.” He murmured, without looking away, taking a mental note on the fact that yes, that freckle under Robbe’s eye was just as he remembered it. “It's been a while, huh?”

“Not really, we saw each other a week ago.” Robbe turned back to the huge face of Ziggy Stardust in front of them and took a few steps forward, placing the rose he was holding at the foot of the mural.

“I wasn’t even sure you had recognized me.”

“I did.” He replied, without turning his back again, but making no effort to leave, and Sander took that as his cue.

“Robbe, I'm sorry, I didn’t want to bother you, if you want me to quit, I will.”

Robbe put his hand on the dirty Plexiglas plate, closing his eyes. He stood like that for a moment and then stepped back, turning to Sander. “Have you ever thought about how many great things we're missing because he passed away?”

“All the time.” He said quietly. That was a recurring thought, every time he got lost in one of Bowie's tune. How many goosebumps he still could have given him, how much wonder the world was missing since he died.

“Sander, I need to let it out before we start working together.” Robbe was serious, determined, and Sander feared the words that would follow. Maybe it was the moment he'd imagined for years. To finally let out the words that he had carefully prepared, and recited so many times in his head. The reason why he disappeared after their first time together.

“Hiring you wasn’t an attempt to get close to you once again. I didn’t wanna work with you and I clearly stated my intention with my bandmates. I despise you so much that I don’t think this will ever change, and I don’t care if I sound childish. But it’s about my job, and as much as I don’t like for you to be involved in it, I also know you are the best, and your skills are what my band needs right now. So just do what you have to, and the rest of the time, stay the hell out of my way.”

Those words hit Sander like a punch in the stomach, but there was no doubt that he deserved what came out of the other's mouth. 

Sander had deluded himself by thinking that Robbe was looking for an explanation, but once again, that person in front of him proved to be completely different from the one who lived in his memories. 

He nodded his head as Robbe walked away and the first drops of rain began to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made them meet one again, and it was totally unplanned, but I think Sander really needed to understand that he couldn’t just snap his fingers to make things back to normal. Robbe changed because of what he did, and he has to work to win his trust back! I’m excited because finally I can start really playing with the plot to make things more... spicy ;)  
> What do you guys think will happen next? I wanna know your ideas!  
> As always, thanks for all the kudos and comments! All the love and take care! x


	6. Cosmic Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Robbe is playing is Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine. Here is the link if you wanna listen to it while reading https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gMq3hRLDD0

Two weeks had passed since Sander had started working for the band, and he was already sick of it. The work was simple but tedious. All days ran the same way. Each show looked like the exact copy of the previous one. The band always made the same moves, sang the same songs, staged the same gags that made the fans scream their lungs out, and then wrapped it all with an acoustic version of the very same song that was meant to make the whole place cry their eyes out.

Sander didn't quite get if the rockstar's life was boring in general or if it was just De Broers who had sticks up their asses.

Plus, the situation with Robbe wasn’t going anywhere. After being insulted without even having the chance to speak up, Sander had been religiously away from him, trying to be as subtle as possible when he had to do his job.

At that moment, he had taken a break to smoke a cigarette outside the venue. He didn't even know which city he was in anymore. Everything had started to lose meaning when he realized that the strict schedule he had to follow wouldn’t allow him to wander in his spare time and take pictures. There were only travels, concerts, and hotels, usually located out of town to avoid being stormed by fans.

He wanted to go back home and do something more meaningful, something that really thrilled him. Working with that slicked-up idiots certainly wasn't in his top three.

Sander looked around. As a photographer, he should have been able to find beauty in everything, but that frozen, dull landscape of mid-February was by far the most depressing thing he had ever seen. He looked up at the sky, which was covered by low, thick clouds. It was probably going to snow soon.

“There you are!”

He raised his hand to greet Noor and then lit his cigarette, taking a long drag.

“We’ve arrived two hours ago! Where were you?”

“We got stuck on the highway.” Noor stole the lighter from Sander’s pocket, throwing him a mischievous look, lighting her cigarette.

Sander and Noor had met a few days after the concert in London, during an after-show party. She was in charge of the lighting of the stage and had a natural talent for it. They both had studied at the Academie but had never crossed paths, probably too busy excelling in their fields. She was an interesting girl, they had the same tastes for art, music, and many common interests. Sander found it nice to talk to someone about topics that excited him and to receive as many valid ideas and opinions in return. They had spent a few nights watching old movies on Netflix until one night they moved on to the next stage.

Sander wasn't looking for a relationship, but Noor was smart and beautiful, and he, after all, was just made of flesh and blood.

“What’s the mood inside?”

“Same old. Robbe is screaming because one of his guitar’s strings broke.” She chuckled, lacing her arms behind Sander's neck, pressing her soft lips to the corner of his mouth.

“God, I wish I could quit.” He muttered in a low voice while stroking Noor back’s with his free hand.

“You cannot leave me here alone!” She said, looking at Sander with an adorable pout. “You’re the only one who is keeping me sane!”

Noor slipped her fingers through Sander's hair, moving closer to kiss his lips, but behind them a door slammed heavily, interrupting their intimate moment. They both turned their heads to check who was about to third-wheeling them, but soon an unmistakable accent came to their ears.

“Jens, I'm not fucking coming back inside. Stop asking. Bye.” Lucas rolled his eyes, shoving the phone back in his pocket.

“Wow, troubles in paradise?” Noor looked at her friend with a frown, while he was opening the sheath attached to his pants, taking out everything needed to roll up a joint.

“No. I just can't stand Robbe anymore. I needed some fresh air.”

Lucas was in a relationship with Jens, and although he was on that tour with the sole purpose of providing moral support to his boyfriend, he was anything but a cute lap dog.

He lived in Amsterdam, where he had moved after high school to study fashion, which allowed him to work as a model and make some cash.

Despite his ethereal appearance (Sander was absolutely going to ask him to pose for one of his shoots, sooner or later), he had strong opinions on just about anything and never failed to say what he thought.

He was charming, witty, and funny, so it wasn't hard at all to understand why Jens fell in love with him.

“I get that he’s tired and stressed, but the environment he’s created is toxic.”

“Totally, Jens is always so tense, I can’t see him like that.”

Sander listened to them debating about Robbe without saying a word. He wanted to ask if he had always been like that or if things had gotten tenser since he arrived. He had so many questions and no one worth asking.

“You guys are so cute. Tell Sander what tabloids wrote about you, please.”

Lucas, who now was sitting cross-legged on the ground, raised his eyes from what he was doing with a chuckle and looked at Sander, dramatically raising an eyebrow.

“According to them, I was working in a brothel in Amsterdam when Jens and I met.”

Sander burst out laughing. That story was so crazy that he couldn't believe that a reporter got the courage to write it. “So you guys are a real-life version of Pretty Woman?”

“Oh my god,” Lucas muttered, closing his eyes and scrunching his nose, smiling. “For the record, we met during a photoshoot but I got cut out when the campaign came out.”

“With that pretty face?” Sander asked, halfway between flirting and joking, completely ignoring Noor's presence.

“I know, right?” Lucas played along, spreading his arms, giving him an incredulous look, followed by a wink as he slipped his joint between his lips.

Noor smiled at that playful banter, and threw away his cigarette butt in his fingers, stepping on it with the heel of his black leather boots. “Come on, let's go back inside. We have a job to do.”

The situation inside the venue had calmed down. Everyone was ready for the soundcheck, and Noor hurried to her position behind her computer.

Sander wasn't supposed to take pictures, but he pulled out his camera when Robbe took the stage and started plucking the strings of his acoustic guitar. It was an unusual situation because he never started rehearsals that way. He sat down on a large amp, completely focused on what he was doing, while a strange atmosphere fell on the small audience.

The air was tense, full of curiosity and expectation, and when the first few notes of that song echoed throughout the empty building like small drops of dew, everyone seemed to relax, releasing a collective sigh of relief.

Robbe began to sing and it was like witnessing something from another world. Everyone’s attention was on him, and it was impossible to turn around. He had bewitched every single person there with his spell and held them in his hand like puppets.

_“The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out, you left me in the dark. No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight. I'm the shadow of your heart.”_

Sander knew that song like the back of his hand. It spoke about pain, love, strength, and hope. Every word, every sweet sound leaving Robbe's lips, made new shivers appear on Sandet’s skin. He wanted to capture every single moment of what he was witnessing, but he couldn't. He was paralyzed, chained to the ground, forced to listen as if that song was meant for him and only him.

Robbe was singing that melody as if it came directly from his heart as if his own story could be told by those words. His eyes were closed and his fingers flew lightly on the strings of the guitar, and Sander almost could feel them brushing on his skin.

_“You were in the darkness too, so I stayed in the darkness with you.”_

And exactly as it began, that moment of pure magic ended out of nowhere, leaving everyone in a state of mild shock. As if someone had suddenly knocked the air out of their lungs, and all they could do was gasp, wanting more. To see that beautiful flower lose its armor of thorns and blossom before them again and again.

Robbe had opened his eyes, and for a brief second, Sander could swear he saw him looking in his direction.

“Have you told Noor about you and Robbe?”

Lucas must have arrived while Sander's full attention was on what was happening on stage because when he whispered that question in his ear, he didn't even realize he was there.

He frowned at him and then shook his head. Jens had probably told him that Robbe didn't want to hire him as a photographer or something, and Lucas had connected the dots very loosely.

“There’s nothing between me and him.”

_And it’s none of her business._

Sander wanted to add, but he only did it mentally. The more time he spent with the present version of Robbe, the more he realized he had to keep what had happened between them for himself. Not as something to be ashamed of.

Quite the opposite, indeed.

That part of Robbe was so precious and naive that it was almost impossible to believe it belonged to him. Sander was jealous of its memory and he wouldn’t share it with anyone else anymore. He didn’t want to waste it with people unable to understand the value of it.

“She really likes you, Sander, and if you're emotionally unavailable, you should tell her.”

“The thing with Robbe happened many years ago.” He said as if that words were enough to explain the situation. As if _the thing with Robbe_ hadn’t shaped everything Sander was. Every little nuance of himself was intrinsically linked to Robbe’s presence and also his absence. How could he explain that to someone without sounding delusional?

Lucas took a deep breath, watching as the band began rehearsing their usual setlist. “Robbe had always been, let's say, not the easiest person, but since you arrived he got unbearable.”

“We’re not even talking.”

“Do you really believe that song he just played was a casual? He never played that before. He always sticks to the setlist, then you arrive and he plays that heartbreaking tune about two broken people who find each other again?”

Sander couldn't allow Lucas's words to get into his head. He couldn’t delude himself again. There wasn’t a hidden meaning to have found each other after a long time. It wasn’t fate or the universe’s will. His life wasn’t a romantic movie. Sander was in control of everything that happened. If he was there at that moment, it was because he had chosen to be, and not because of some strange celestial concoction that wanted him and Robbe together again.

He forced himself to laugh genuinely at those words, patting Lucas on the shoulder, starting to walk backstage. “I think your weed is way too strong! Too bad I don't smoke, must be hilarious to be in your head.”

Lucas grabbed him by the wrist before he could leave and looked him in the eye.

“I get that you don't wanna talk about it, but don't hurt Noor while you try to figure things out.”

Sander nodded, freeing himself from the other’s grip, and went back on his way, as the need to stay alone worked its way into him.

-

After that, the day had gone on like all the previous ones, there hadn't been a single different detail. At the end of the concert, Noor had invited Sander to his room to relax, and of course, he had accepted.

He probably should have set the record straight, and he had promised himself to do it as soon as possible, but that night, he needed to do something purely physical to turn off his brain.

They had stayed in bed smoking and talking about everything and nothing, then Sander had slipped away before she asked him to sleep, and that time, just sleep, together.

Coward.

When the elevator doors reopened, Sander found himself in the hallway on his floor, trying to remember if his room was on the left or the right. He took a quick look at the sign with directions in front of him and headed for room 521.

He was tired, and the fact of not having laced back his boots made his steps way too heavy. The prospect of still having to shower didn’t thrill him at all.

Down the hall, the door of a room just past his own opened, and Sander recognized Josh, the guy who took care of the musical instruments.

“Can I have a goodnight kiss?” He asked in a low voice, looking at his guest with an amused smirk on his lips.

Robbe stepped out of his room, holding the door open with one hand. He was only wearing a shirt and a pair of briefs. His long loose hair fell over his shoulders.

Sander felt like he was dying again, the same way he did weeks before in front of the mural.

“Don't get used to it.” He smiled, getting up on his bare toes, to reach Josh’s lips, who wrapped his arm around his waist, kissing him back with intent.

Sander wished the floor would swallow him. He wished he stayed in Noor's room and sleep with her instead.

When the two lovers said goodbye, he had finally reached his room, trying to enter without being noticed. He had to be invisible, as he was asked. He was nothing more than a number, an ordinary person in the huge staff that the band carried around. He was nobody.

“Sander,” Robbe called him, just before he managed to disappear through the door. Sander rested his forehead against the wood and sighed, closing his eyes. “Can we talk?” Robbe added, not even waiting for Josh to finish walking down the hall to get into the elevator.

Sander lifted his face to look at the person who once was his best friend. His sun, moon, and stars together, his entire universe. He scanned his features carefully, unable to decipher his intentions, or even read his expectations from the tone of his voice.

He pondered his state, the tiredness and soreness he felt in his body. The desire he had to go back home and put an end to that torture.

Did he hate himself so much to keep going like that? Or was there something else behind it? Did he hope that somewhere buried in that body there was still _his Robbe_?

He didn't even physically seem the same person anymore.

Everything Sander was seeing just made him nauseous.

Sander looked up straight into Robbe’s eyes and angrily clenched his jaw, closing his fist, feeling the nails sticking in his palm. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, not even able to find the words to say what he wanted, so he turned back, finally walking into his room.

The slam of his door echoed through the silent hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo. So many things to say. Yeah, I made Sander and Noor being friends with benefits again lol I wanted to give him a boyfriend actually but I also didn’t want to introduce a new character so she was my only choice.  
> Also I wasn’t planning of giving Lucas a main role this time but guess what? Lol  
> Robbe is breaking Sander’s heart so many times already, and this time, he didn’t even give him the chance to speak. He’s starting to really reconsider his feeling. 
> 
> Who is gonna be the next to make a move? I wanna hear your opinion, guys!
> 
> As always, thank you for your patience, for the lovely comments and kudos. You really inspire me to keep going!  
> Love you and take care ❤️


	7. An unexpected turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sander’s tattoo: https://universe-n-3276.tumblr.com/post/640204327057784832/that-burnt-out-spot

Sander knew, he screwed up the moment he had unleashed his feelings. He shouldn't have turned his back and slam the door in  Robbe’s face, after the other had offered him an olive branch, asking him to talk.

He didn't know why he had reacted like  that.

Since he joined the tour, all of his emotions and thoughts were completely out of control. He could no longer get back in touch with himself in any way. Everything, that had previously been as clear as daylight, seemed to be covered by a thick fog.

For four years he had deliberately stayed away from anyone who made him feel something, and at that moment  Robbe's presence destabilized him, making him conflicted, and the only person he wanted to talk about it, was also the same one who was messing up his mind.

“SANDER, I DON'T CARE IF THE WHOLE BUILDING WAKES UP, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!”

The sound of  Robbe's fists banging against the door was echoing throughout the room, as his screams reached his ears, leaving him in shock. He couldn't believe what was going on. Sander had always tried to keep his life to himself, and instead,  Robbe was shouting their business to the whole world.

“SANDER, OPEN THE DOOR!”

And suddenly, guided by a rush of anger, he did. Sander grabbed the other by the arm and dragged h im into his room.

“What do you want?”

Robbe was paralyzed, with his mouth agape as he gasped out of breath. Sander stared at him harshly from top to bottom. The height’s difference was even more marked by the fact that one was still wearing boots and the other was barefoot.

“You cannot do this to me.” The shortest said, and this time his voice was back to normal.

Sander wanted to laugh at the irony because after all, he was still the fucked up one, who couldn’t figure out his feelings and thoughts on hi s own. He couldn’t understand the reason behind the anger he was trying to suppress. The sadness, the desire to go home and disappear forever.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re mad at me because I'm seeing someone.”

It could have been jealou sy, yes,  Robbe was right, but there was more, Sander was sure of it.

“You told me to stay out of your way and now you're invading my personal space.” He said sarcastically.

“I wanted to apologize about that but you didn’t let me talk.”

“No need to!  You were right. We should avoid each other as much as we can.”

Sander didn't really mean that, but he still wanted to hurt the person in front of him, to see him suffer, falter. And it worked because  Robbe's fiery gaze wavered for a very brief second. It  was the tiniest moment, and it would have gone unnoticed by anyone else but him.

“It's unprofessional.” He whispered, and Sander knew he had hit the mark.

Mission accomplished.

He shouldn't have enjoyed it so much, but he couldn’t even recognize himself a nymore.

Robbe had managed to bring out all his worst, in a way that even Britt hadn't been able to.

_Kudos_.

Sander rolled his eyes and pointed the door with his finger. “Yeah, unprofessional. Whatever. Leave.”

“Why are you judging me?”  Robbe asked, with  the last glimmer of pride he had left. “Because I fuck with somebody that’s not you? Because I'm not your stupid naive boy anymore?”

_ That stupid, naive boy was the love of my life, and you are taking him away from me. _

That was all he wanted to say, but h is words died in his throat, and all the strength he was feeling just moments before, left his body. Sander cursed himself, knowing it was time to retreat.

“SAY SOMETHING FOR FUCK'S SAKE!”  Robbe shouted angrily.

His eyes were full of tears but he didn't  seem to care. He knew he wasn’t going to get the answers, he had looked for, for ages, and Sander didn’t know if he would ever be able to give them to him, even if that was the only purpose for his presence there. 

“I can’t.”

Robbe shook his head,  with a bitter expression painted on his face. He started to leave but turned back one last time.

“I might've changed, but you're still the same fucking coward who left me without a word, on that rooftop, four years ago.”

-

When the alarm went off  the next morning, Sander had been staring at the ceiling for hours. He felt broken. Physically and emotionally exhausted, as if he had been at war with himself but also with the whole world. 

He had relived the fight of the previous evening a million times in his head, to analyze every single detail, thinking of all the words he could have said instead. He didn't know if the outcome would have been different, and it was probably useless to think about it that much since there was no way to go back and chang e what happened.

He was certain, however, that the situation wasn’t doing him any good. If he didn't manage to get back in control as soon as possible, an episode would have been behind the corner.

There wasn’t much to do that morning, since he had spent all night tidying up his things and put them in his ready suitcases, stacked by the door. 

As soon as Sander set foot in the hotel's parking lot, he was intercepted by Lucas who practically forced him to travel with him and Jens, in their same minivan. After the night before, he wasn’t surprised at all. He was expecting to see people staring at him and whispering who knows what gossip, but he didn't care. He had nothing to tell t o himself and even less to other people.

The day was gray, just as all previous ones had been. Sander didn’t remember having a bleaker winter. He wished he could have some fun. Go for a walk in a park and lie down on the grass. Feeling the sun, warm on hi s skin, and rest there, without a thought in his mind. He wondered when he’d be able to do that again.

“So, you and  Robbe ..”

Jens's voice dragged him away from his daydream. He was with Lucas in the last back seat, while Sander sat just behind the driver . During the weeks he had spent with the band, he had never been able to exchange more than a few words with the boys, and perhaps Sander should have taken that chance and get to know better at least one of them, but that morning, he felt too tired to be s ociable.

Lucas, who was reading something on his iPad, looked up, with a Cheshire grin. He probably hadn't slept just to come up with a plan to extract Sander some kind of confession. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like.” He said because he knew very well wh at was going on in everyone's minds.  Robbe , half-naked, screaming at his door. Plus, no one had seen Josh leave.

“Well, he wasn’t wearing his pants so I just assumed-”

“I wasn’t the one who took them off, though.” 

Despite everything, he  wasn’t going  to g ive away  Robbe's relationship. He was still angry, but it would have been a cheap shot. Although he had seen them kissing passionately in the middle of a hallway, he didn’t know their relationship status, and overall, it wasn’t his business.

“Ow. Why was  he yelling like that?”

“He wanted to talk and I didn’t.” He replied, shrugging. It was the truth, after all. 

Jens laughed, settling himself better on the seat, turning to look at his boyfriend. “ Robbe knows his way.”

“Evidently.” Sander agreed,  looking out the window, willing to put an end to that useless interrogation.

Jens was silent for a few seconds while playing with Lucas’ fingers. He was  Robbe’s best friend, the person who had taken Sander's place, or at least, part of it, and he was stil l trying to be friendly.

“I don’t know what happened between you guys, but  Robbe wouldn’t act like that if you were just one of his hookups.”

“I gave him the chance to be happy and it worked.” That words slipped out of his mouth, without Sander actually h ad the time to think, and  he  immediately regretted them. 

Jens frowned, nodding sarcastically, and Lucas sat there tense while studying his boyfriend’s reaction.

“Uh. You think so? Does he seem happy to you?”

That question completely took him b y surprise, because he realized he had taken the most important thing for granted. Sander had decided to cut the chords with  Robbe , assuming that his gesture would automatically give the other happiness, according to a cosmic balance or something. Having c ondemned himself to lifelong unhappiness, in his head, had given  Robbe a fantastic life,  and  from the outside, his plan had worked perfectly fine. But now that Sander was inside that life, he never stopped to think about whether  Robbe seemed happy or not, too  caught up in his chaos.

_ I've never seen him being more _ miserable.

He silently stated in his mind. He had been fooled by luxury, success, and money. That glittering castle was hiding a shattered prince.

“Maybe this is what happy new  Rob be looks like.” He murmured, still hoping that the other would confirm his theory. 

“I told you he was like this,” Lucas said, taking Jens's hand in his and squeezing it to calm him down. That conversation was leading nowhere, so he decided to take contro l of the situation, drawing his boyfriend to his chest, and whispering something in his ear.

Jens closed his eyes, leaning his weight on Lucas, looping both arms around his waist, while rubbing his nose against his neck. “Whatever.”

Lucas fixed his  eyes on Sander's, as he carded his fingers through his boyfriend's hair. That look suddenly made him feel exposed. It was indecipherable. 

Sander turned his face, trying to find a comfortable position on the seat. He pulled the hood of his black sweatshir t up over his eyes, hoping to rest a bit. 

-

The rest of their trip went on better than the way it started. Sander and Jens even managed to have a full conversation without wanting to jump to each other’s throat. Lucas’ presence had softened the  mood. They had talked about music, fashion, and photography. Sander had found out that Jens didn't like  the band ’s genre,  but it was their label who deci ded their every move , and he had no way to object.

In the future, he would have liked to pu rsue a solo career, and start an indie record company, to lead a quieter life than the one he had at that time.

He and Lucas were planning to move in together as soon as the tour was over. Probably somewhere in the Netherlands, because Lucas wanted to be  close to his mother.

Once they arrived at the venue, Sander was happy that Lucas had ambushed him that morning, even though he hadn't been able to nap, and his sleepless night was starting to weigh on his shoulders.

The fans were still waiting outside th e building, but inside ,  the whole crew had already started to set up the stage. The speed with which they assembled and reassembled each piece of that gigantic scenography was impressive. The crew members were always the last to leave and the first to arriv e, and the work they did was always impeccable.

Noor came to meet him with a bright smile, kissing his cheek. Sander hugged her, feeling slightly guilty. After everything that had happened the night before, he hadn't thought about her for a second, but he swore to himself to talk to her that after the show. He had already messed up enough with  Robbe and didn't want to add more  mess to the pile.

“Can you hear it?” She asked, holding up her index finger.

Sander frowned because if it hadn't been for the noise of the c rew, the building would have been completely silent. “What?”

“Exactly!” She clapped her hands together, smiling. “Robbe is missing and everyone is so relaxed! But don't worry, it happens quite often, and then, he comes back completely drunk. Have you ever seen him drunk on stage? It's hilarious!”

Sander nodded. That meant he could rest for a few hours before the show and his anxiety of having an episode because he wasn’t sleeping enough worn off instantly. He had only to ask one of the drivers for the key s to the minivan. “I'm gonna take a nap somewhere.”

Noor seemed taken aback by that answer, but she didn't protest. “Ow, okay! I have a blanket in my backpack if you want.”

Not even ten minutes later, completely wrapped up like a burrito in  Noor's blanke t, Sander finally allowed himself the sleep he had longed for.

-

When he opened his eyes, Sander realized he had slept more than he should have. It was dark outside, and the parking lot of the venue was lit only by the dim yellowish light of the  street lamps. He probably would have kept napping until the next morning, if it wasn’t for the loud banging on the window.

He opened the door, meeting Jens, who had a worried  look on his face.

“I'm sorry to wake you,” he said, running his fingers th rough his already perfectly styled hair. He was wearing his stage clothes, which were very different from what he normally wore. “I know this is a long shot but do you know where  Robbe is?”

Sander frowned, immediately realizing how serious the situation w as. Jens knew that the relationship between him and  Robbe was tense, and if he was asking him, it was because he was desperate. “Is he still gone? What time is it?”

“It’s almost time to play, and nobody has seen him. You're the last person he talked to.”

“Jens, I have no idea, I'm sorry.” Sander shook his head, trying to remember some details from the previous night that could have been useful, but there was nothing significant. Plus, he no longer knew  Robbe . He didn't know his habits or what he liked to d o. He felt completely useless.

Jens covered his face with his hands, and let out a frustrated groan. “Fuck, this is bad.” He said against his palms. "I'm worried sick for him. He always comes back eventually, but today is- and I fucking forgot. I'm so stu pid.”

“Just get on stage and don’t worry, I’ll find him.”

“Shit, okay. Thanks, man. Call me as soon as you know something.”

He gathered his belongings from the car, folded the blanket  Noor had given him and put it back in his backpack as Jens quickly wal ked away. Sander had no idea how he was going to find  Robbe . Looking for him in a completely unknown city, where no one spoke his language, was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, but then an idea flashed in his mind.

During the time with the band, Sander had noticed that they couldn't have even the bare minimum of privacy. There was no place where they weren’t recognized and photographed, even when they wanted to be left alone.

At that realization, Sander pulled the phone out of his pocket, quickly scanning every social media he knew, carefully checking all the latest photos in which  Robbe had been tagged.

_Bingo_.

-

When the taxi pulled up outside the park, Sander was praying to be in the right place.

He tried to be rational in his  research, but the only thing he managed to do once he crossed the gate was to run like a madman in every direction, hoping it’d be the right one. 

The park was empty and poorly lit. The temperature was close to zero, but Sander didn’t realize how desperate his condition was, because of the adrenaline running through his veins. After an hour, however, he was close to giving up. He was short of breath, his heart was pounding in his throat and he could no longer feel his fingers. The boy rubbed his hands again st each other to warm them up a little and decided to make one last attempt, starting to walk  the path alongside a small lake.

At first glance the benches along the shore seemed to be vacant, but then Sander looked closely and saw a sleeping figure l ying on one of them. Maybe he was hallucinating, but he decided to check anyway. He was facing the back of the benches, so, from his position, he could barely see what was on them, but as soon he was close enough, he recognized  Robbe's red beanie.

He  was lying still, and on the lawn at the foot of the bench, there was an empty bottle of whiskey.

Sander knelt in front of the boy and stroked his face.  Robbe was cold and white as a ghost.

“ Robbe! Robbe, wake up, come on.”

Sander didn't know what to do. The other was still breathing, albeit weakly. He tried to wake him up by talking and shaking him, until  Robbe moved slightly, moaning almost imperceptibly.

“Thank god.” Sander breathed out, as the boy opened his eyes.

“Hm, I'm cold.” He muttered softly.

Robbe looked exhausted, but at least he was still alive.

“I know, come here.” Sander opened his backpack and pulled out the blanket he had brought with him, enveloping the other completely. He was frozen. The jacket that was supposed to keep him warm w as useless, stiff, and covered with a thin layer of ice. 

“What are you doing here? Why is it so dark?”  Robbe asked confused, looking around. Sander didn't know if the numbness he was showing was caused by the alcohol he had been drinking or by hypothermi a, but, in any case, he had to hurry and take him to a warm place.

“You fell asleep. It's very late.”

“I have to be on stage at 9! I have to go.” He said, blinking his long dark lashes a couple of times, being a little more alert than a few seconds before , but still without moving a muscle.

“Don't worry about it.” Sander stood up, pulling  Robbe with him, starting to walk towards the exit. “We are going back to the hotel so you can take a warm bath, okay?” He whispered softly, hugging the other closer.

Ro bbe's movements were slow and rigid, thus it took them a while to reach the gate, but luckily, the uber that Sander had called,  was already there . When they got into the car, Sander asked the driver to turn the heat up, helping the boy to settle down on  the seat. He took off his jacket and sweatshirt and handed them to  Robbe . “Here, wear th ese .”

“I don't need you to take care of me. I'm an adult.”

In another situation, Sander would have laughed.  Robbe was coming to his senses, but at that moment, he sti ll couldn't risk it. He looked the other straight in the eye, trying to be as convincing as possible. “Please.” He begged as he used to when they were attached at the hip.

Robbe muttered something inaudible and began to take off his frozen  clothes, wearing Sander's ones instead. Then, suddenly, he grabbed Sander’s wrist, making him jump at the sensation of  Robbe's cold fingers against his skin. He turned his hand to observe Sander’s tattoo in silence for a few seconds and then let him go, wi thout saying anything, wrapping himself back in the blanket.

“Don't fall asleep, okay?” Sander whispered, brushing his fingers through  Robbe’s curl. The boy closed his eyes and let his head fall on Sander's shoulder, getting closer and closer, probably in need of more warmth.

“But I'm tired.” He complained as Sander lifted his face to look into his eyes. He was frightened but still hoped that none of his emotions would show on his face.

“Let's talk then. Tell me the first thing that pops into your head.” Sander suggested to engage the other in some way.

Robbe seemed to think about it for a few moments, nibbling on his lower lip, then smiled (a smile that was the saddest thing Sander had ever seen in his life) and closed his eyes, snuggling closer to his  chest.

“I think she sent you back to me.”

Sander frowned, completely taken aback.  Robbe wasn't completely sober, but he didn't seem so intoxicated to start babbling nonsense. “What are you talking about?”

“My mama.” He replied in a whisper, pausing to  rack up the right words. “She died a year ago, on this very same day, while I was playing in Toronto.”   
  
Sander's heart shattered instantly. He felt the air being knocked out of his lungs. He knew  Robbe's mom. She was the sweetest and most caring person he  had ever known, and the one from whom her son had taken all his kindness and courage. Then he suddenly remembered  Senne wearing a dark suit, displaying a sad expression on his face. When Sander asked him what had happened, he replied that one of his closes t friend’s mother had passed away.   
Sander was feeling naive and selfish. He had tried in every way to protect  Robbe from the pain that a life together could have caused him, and instead he had left him alone, without his support, exactly as  Senne had said. If he and  Robbe had stayed together, maybe he could have helped him with his mother and stood next to the woman while her son was on tour.   
Instead, he had been a coward, who had blindly ran away from all the possibilities he had before him.   
  
“ Robbe , I-”   
“ Don’t.”

  
At that, Sander didn't protest, feeling completely unable to speak without hearing his voice crack in his own throat.

-

When they arrived at his hotel room, Robbe was greeted by a small, worried but happy crowd. Moyo, Aaron, and Jens had held him in a bone-breaking hug, while Lucas urged them to be careful. Josh was also there waiting for him. He was visibly relieved, but when the blanket that wrapped him had slipped from his shoulders, revealing that he was wearing Sander's clothes, the man had turned up his nose, immediately offering to help him undress and take a bath.  
  
Robbe felt a bit overwhelmed by all that sudden affection but said nothing, letting the others give him all the attention that the moment required. He looked around to assure Sander that he would give him back his jacket and sweatshirt as soon as possible, but the boy had already disappeared without saying anything and Robbe felt a lump in his throat.  
  
Once he was finally alone (he had forbidden Josh to enter the bathroom), immersed in the hot water of the bathtub, he let his thoughts take over. He went through every moment of that evening spent with Sander, and he couldn't stop thinking about how lost, alone, and abandoned he felt, before he collapsed, and how those feelings changed as soon as the boy found him. Throughout the drive back to the hotel, he had finally felt safe, and the only thing he wanted to do was stay there alone with Sander for the rest of his life.  
He touched the back of his neck with his fingers, exactly where his long hair hid the tattoo identical to the one he had seen on Sander's wrist. Because of that, a little bit of hope had woken up in his heart. Even if that night the other had left him alone on that roof, that tattoo proved that their relationship was still important to him.   
  
Robbe looked at his wrinkled fingertips and decided it was time to get out of the bathtub. He stood up, careful not to slip, climbed over the edge, then put on his white, fluffy bathrobe.  
  
When he got out of the bathroom, Josh was lying on the bed watching TV, with the remote in his hand. The man smiled at him, but Robbedidn't reciprocate. He took a clean pair of boxers out of his suitcase and put them on without undoing the bathrobe.  
  
“Can you leave?” He asked, without turning around, looking for something comfortable and cute to sleep in. He opted for a sage-colored sweatshirt and sweatpants. He placed them on the bed, still folded, looking up at the man in front of him.  
  
“Robbe, I'm worried about you.” He whispered cautiously,approaching him and trying to take his hand, but Robbe promptly drew it back. “I know we have a deal, but I was thinking I could stay here tonight, just to check on you.”  
  
It wasn't fair to treat Josh like that, since he had been nothing but loving and caring. But he wasn't the one Robbe wanted, he had never been. He was done lying to himself.  
  
“I wanna be alone.”  
“Robbe, please.”  
  
But all that didn't affect him. He had made up his mind already.  
“Josh, stop being so fucking pushy. I asked you to leave.” He deliberately raised his voice more than necessary, and it seemed to work because Josh finally gathered his things and left without a word.  
  
Robbe sat on the bed and took a deep breath to try to calm down. He buried his face in his hands and found himself smiling, strangely relieved. His heart was pounding, and he could feel butterflies in his belly.  
  
He was delirious, ready to risk it all. Maybe it was because of his near-death experience, or because of the epiphany he had in the car, but he was sure that if Sander was there, under his same roof, it had something to do with his mother’s will.  
  
Robbe smiled again, thanking her, and began to get dress, trying to look as good as he could. He decided to wear his hair down, but still slipping on his wrist a hair tie as a precaution.  
  
He walked out of his room, mentally trying to find the right words. Something witty, a joke, maybe, a simple request.   
  
Sander’s room was one floor down, he didn’t need to ask anybody. He always knew where Sander was. The boy stopped at the other’s door. It looked the same as any door he had seen million times in the past years, but he knew that somehow, that one would have forever meant something to him. Room 212.  
  
Robbe knocked, lowering his head, feeling his hands shake a little, and after a few seconds, he heard Sander's footsteps approach (fuck, how the hell could he still remember what his footsteps sounded like), until he opened the door.  
  
“Robbe?” Sander had his eyebrows pinched together and an expression mixed between worried and quizzical on his face. Robbe just wanted to cup his cheeks with his hands and kiss the air out of his lungs.  
  
But he didn't.  
  
He looked Sander in the eyes, in those beautiful green eyes, and all the words he had carefully prepared, all his intentions to remain strong and put together, collapsed like a sandcastle hit by the waves.  
  
“Stop leaving me behind without a fucking word, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of you who wanted to see more of Robbe and Josh didn’t get disappointed hahah but who knows what will happened in the next chapter? What do you think?  
> Sander finally realized that his plan went very much wrong and that Robbe is suffering a lot. Did you guys expect any of this? Let me know everything!  
> Btw for those of you who are following me on tumblr, I have a new blog, and now you can find all the updates of this story here -> @maade-of-stardust  
> As always, thanks for all the comments and kudos! You guys inspire me to keep going! x


	8. Hide and Seek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty chapter ahead!

Sander had decided to leave as soon as Robbe was surrounded by his friends. Surely, the boy would have been safer among them, and they knew him well enough to know what to do in case he needed anything. Thus, Sander’s presence was no longer requested. He had carried out his task and could go back to his place. But after all, he told himself, it was better that way. He was feeling deeply sad after hearing what had happened to Robbe's mom, and he needed time alone to process the news. As he reached his room, Sander remembered that he had to talk to Noor. Though his first instinct was to postpone again, he thought he might as well face another issue that same evening, so he backed off and went to knock on the girl's door.

The conversation was honest, although, for obvious reasons he chose not to go into details, but he told her about his past with Robbe, their years apart, and the way he was feeling since he started to work for the band. Noor was very understanding and they decided to stay friends, without benefits this time. They had smoked a cigarette together and after that, Sander finally went back to his room.

He took a hot shower, hoping it would wash away all the tiredness, sadness, and desire to disappear he was feeling in his body. It seemed like that day had lasted two months. Starting with the fight the evening before, the sleepless night, the trip with Lucas and Jens, and then the insane run in the park to find Robbe. It had been an eventful 24 hours.

The worst part, though, was probably realizing that everything he had relied on for the past four years was just a big, fat, pile of bullshits, he told to be at peace with himself. He hadn't saved Robbe from a life of pain, he hadn't freed him from carrying Sander's burden. He had simply turned his back on Robbe. Sander had left him alone to face all the sufferings in his life.

Now, he didn't even know how he could explain to the other, the reason behind his gesture, without being laughed at. His illness seemed nothing compared to what Robbe had to go through completely alone.

Probably the best thing to do was to simply make amends, without hoping for forgiveness. In light of the facts, his explanation had become ridiculous, useless, but he owed it to Robbe. He wanted to finally be honest.

Sander wore a lilac hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants and went to bed with his computer on his lap, editing the photos he had taken in the previous days. It was something that helped him stay present, having to concentrate kept his mind from wandering.

It was almost midnight when he heard a knock on his room door, and for a few seconds, he was tempted not to open it, pretending to be asleep, but in the end, curiosity prevailed.

He moved the computer from his legs, leaving it on the bed, and went to the door, finding himself face to face with Robbe.

Sander felt his heart skip a beat. The boy had his hair down over his shoulders, and he was wearing a sage-colored sweatshirt and pants. His face was pale, tired, with dark circles under his doe eyes, but they were still beautiful.

"Robbe?" He exclaimed, sounding more surprised than he intended.

"Stop leaving me behind without a fucking word, okay?" He said, with a stern face, looking the other into his eyes, but then gave him a small smile.

Sander stepped aside, inviting him in, and closed the door. He didn't know why he was letting him in his room, but somehow, that night, after what had happened, he didn’t want to let Robbe go again. He needed his presence there.

"Sorry, I thought there were already too many people around."

"Yeah, but I wanted them to leave, not you."

_Oh._

Robbe stood in front of him, biting his lower lip. He was so different from anything Sander had seen in the previous weeks, even different from what he'd seen in the car a few hours before, and it was confusing. Sander wondered how many Robbes were still to be discovered. But this version made him feel at ease. There was something genuine and familiar in him.

"Can I stay here with you tonight?" He asked, blinking his long lashes, pausing for a few seconds to rephrase his request, reading the surprise on Sander's face. "I'm not talking about sex. We can have a pajama party, but like, for adults."

Sander frowned, "It sounds a lot like sex." he said, smiling.

"Come on." He pushed his lower lip out, as an incentive to make the other agree.

"Let's have this pajama party for adults, then." Sander conceded, running his fingers through the boy’s hair. He couldn’t explain it, but ever since they had been forced by circumstances to stay physically close in the car, it was like that invisible barrier, that was keeping them apart, had disappeared, and now every gesture was natural.

Robbe was playing with the lilac strings of Sander's hoodie, twisting it around his fingers. "But on one condition. We can’t talk about our past. Only about present and future."

"Deal." Sander nodded, turning away and walking back to bed, to resume what he was doing. He slipped under the covers and took his laptop again, pretending not to observe every slightest movement of the other, who meanwhile looked around, carefully studying all of Sander’s belongings scattered around the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Editing."

Robbe had nonchalantly approached the bed, trying to look at the screen. "Can I?" He asked, pointing his index finger at the bed where Sander was sitting.

"Yes, come here." He replied, lifting the covers. Robbe immediately snuggled up beside him. They remained silent, while Sander kept editing, trying not to smile too much, and Robbe watched him work. That closeness was amazing. It felt right and Sander wished to stay like that forever.

"I like this one so much. You made me look so good."

"Are you fishing for compliments? Aren't you tired of people telling you how beautiful you are?"

Sander looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and Robbe rolled his eyes, without trying to hide his smile.

"Do you like your job?"

"I do, most of the time. You?"

Robbe sighed, pausing for a long time before answering. "It doesn’t make me feel as happy as it used to, but it’s the only thing I’m good at."

"First of all, I hardly believe it." Sander closed his laptop, placing it on the bedside table, and turned to face the other, giving him his full attention, exactly as he would have done once, during their endless conversations. "Secondly, Robbe, you're just 20. Your life has not even started yet. You can go to college and study whatever you like if you want. I know you probably feel so much older, but you're not."

Robbe slid onto the bed, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. "I just wanna a happy, quiet life." He admitted. He didn't know what he would do without the band, the tour, and the concerts, but at the prospect of being happy, really happy, he could have given up his adrenaline addiction. "No strict schedule, no paparazzi, interviews, or people following me around everywhere."

Sander lay down on his side, supporting his head with one arm. "I bet you already made enough money to retire. You can do everything you want, seriously."

Robbe turned his face to look the other in his eyes. "Not everything." He whispered, shifting his gaze to Sander's lips. "I can't kiss you."

Sander smiled, drawing his face closer and closer. "Do it." He whispered when their lips were almost touching.

Robbe placed his hands on Sander's face and erased the distance that separated them, feeling as excited as when they had exchanged their first kiss. Both couldn’t stop smiling, and it was a very uncoordinated kiss at first, but then the feelings they felt for each other took over, reminding them that what they had wanted for so long, was happening.

It was sweet, familiar, healing. Their souls were quieter after that, and when they parted, they both had an incredulous smile on their faces.

"Now your boyfriend will get so mad."

"He's not my boyfriend, and what about Noor?"

"Noor's not my boyfriend either."

Robbe rolled his eyes for the thousandth time during that night, feeling the affection for the other grow a little more each time. "I know you probably think you're funny, but believe me, it's quite the opposite."

"Look at you, being so mean, and so proud of it!" Sander pulled the boy back, placing another kiss on his lips. "But seriously, there’s nothing between Noor and me. Besides, I’ll pretend you haven’t just admitted you asked around about me and her."

Robbe punched Sander's shoulder, snorting. "I saw you, idiot! You're not that subtle!"

"Ouch! So rude." He said while the other kissed him again to be forgiven.

They kept going like that, laughing, kissing, and talking until they collapsed tightly into each other's arms, lulled by an inner peace that both hadn't felt for a long time.

-

Robbe wondered in how many ways the person lying next to him had changed. He certainly wasn't the same. The intense boy with a thousand ideas running through his head, and the river of words that flowed perpetually from his lips. Or at least, that was who Sander was with him. Now he acted as if Robbe was part of the people, Sander always shied away from. And the words that he spoke weren't even half of what one could see flashing on his face. A thousand emotions that he had never been able to hide, in the past.

By what Robbe had seen, dealing with emotions seemed easier for Sander, or maybe what he felt, simply lessened. Maybe he had found a way to detach himself from the things and circumstances he encountered in life. Or maybe he didn't care anymore, just as Robbe, although the emptiness he always felt within himself, left by everything he had lost, that morning, strangely, was a little more bearable. Unexpectedly that abyss gave Sander back to him. He was chewed and battered, but still Sander.

The boy was asleep, lying on his side. His eyes closed and his face half pressed against the pillow. From his parted lips was coming out a light snore. Peaceful, not annoying, and Robbe was sure that he would be able to fall asleep very quickly, lulled by that regular, low sound.

Robbe wanted to caress Sander's smooth, tanned face. The scar under the eye, his sharp cheekbones, the mole right in the center of the cupid's bow, his squared jaw. Lately, his life was full of things he wanted to do, but he didn’t dare to. They stayed there, suspended between his mind and the reality in front of him, made of life and circumstances. 

However, even though he didn’t dare to touch him, quite surprisingly, considering his record, Sander was there, blissfully asleep, sharing the same bed, warmth, and air with Robbe. He seemed his old self, and at the same time, he was completely different from how Robbe remembered him. Yet, the kiss they had shared the previous night, left him with a familiar sensation, as if, for the past four years, they had never stopped making out, although it was probably because Robbe had thought about their first kiss so much, that the memory of it was stuck in his mind.

Robbe smiled, biting his lip, feeling that warm sensation again, that flutter in his stomach. Happiness, or perhaps the mere fact of having a whole day full of possibilities before him. He couldn't wait to know everything about this new Sander. To get to know him all over again, to understand if there was anything left of the boy he had loved so deeply.

Then Sander opened his eyes. Suddenly, without blinking. All at once, looking at that day shamelessly, and Robbe, again, was mirroring himself in those emeralds eyes. But then, he quickly realized that he was staring at the boy, too lost in the maze of his thoughts. He blushed, burring his face in the pillow to hide it. He let out a stifled sound, hoping to get away with it.

"I'm fucking dying." Robbe moaned, rubbing his face on the soft fabric.

He turned his face again to look at Sander, who meanwhile had turned on his back and was smiling with his eyes closed, stretching his arms. He sighed happily and stood there motionless as if he had gone back to sleep, but his lips were still slightly curled. Robbe would have given anything to know what was going through his mind.

"Why are you laughing?" Robbe whispered, carding his fingers through the other's brown hair. The loss of the platinum blonde had been something he had yet to get used to, but Sander's natural hair color softened his features, making him almost still look like a teenager.

With a thrust of his back, Sander got up, leaving Robbe baffled.

Could their romance be already over? Now that the daylight had returned to light up the room, perhaps things were different.

_You'll always be his little nighttime secret._

An evil voice in his head whispered while Robbe was following with his eyes, the boy around the room.

"Think about it the next time you decide to drink a whole bottle of whiskey.” Sander said, as he was bent over his backpack, looking for something.

Robbe hadn't even been allowed to kiss him before going back to reality. He needed to get up and get back to his room, but he couldn't move a muscle. Every fiber of his body kept him glued to that bed.

Sander emerged from the bathroom where he had disappeared for a few seconds, with a glass of water in his hands. He went back to bed and opened his palm, showing it to Robbe.

"Here, take this." He was handing him a paracetamol tablet, and Robbe took a few seconds to react, calling himself an idiot for having apocalyptic thoughts so early in the morning.

He sat up on the bed and swallowed the tablet along with the water that Sander promptly handed him. "Thank you."

He didn't even need to speak up before Sander knew what to do. Probably not even Robbe himself had realized what he needed at that moment. Or maybe he knew it, but his whole body was too busy longing for another, very specific thing, to focus on anything else.

He slipped back under the covers, rolling onto his side, with his hands under his head as a pillow. Sander did the same, lying down in the same position. Their noses were so close that they could almost touch.

"Hi," Sander whispered, with a sweet smile painted on his face, and Robbe felt in the right place, with the right person, just like the night before. Protected, safe, and something else he didn’t even dare to think.

He covered his mouth with one hand, "I need to brush my teeth."

Sander snorted, "Definitely." He scrunched his nose, without moving away an inch.

Robbe pushed him away, outraged, and sat upon the edge of the bed, giving his back to the other. "Asshole!"

Immediately Sander's hands were on his hips, gripping the fabric of the sage-colored sweatshirt. "I was kidding." He muttered, planting a kiss on Robbe's lower back, making him smile.

Since Sander had left years before, it had become increasingly difficult for Robbe to let people into his life. Let someone show him affection, take care of him. He had kept everyone at a safe distance. For that reason, Josh was never allowed to stay after having sex. As much as Robbe just wanted to let himself go sometimes, he just couldn't give in.

But with Sander, he couldn’t help it, because the boy had always taken all of him, without asking, and Robbe had never objected. Not even after four years, with a lot more experience on his side, he had managed to keep his distance.

He was scared to death, but he couldn't stop that inevitable fall. Because after all, Sander was all he had left that reminded him of home. He didn't make him feel abandoned and alone. Without family or roots.

Robbe wondered if the other knew how much he meant for him. If Sander even remotely imagined all the power he had over him. He almost crushed Robbe that morning, by simply getting up from their bed.

It's always dangerous to give a person the power to tear you apart, but at that moment Robbe wanted to trust him. In the name of their past friendship, or the love they had for each other. He spent years trusting Sander, and he didn’t want that one wrong thing he did, ruin the chance they had to fix their relationship.

_Delusional._

"No, you're right. I drunk way too much yesterday. Can I steal the hotel’s disposable toothbrush in your bathroom?" He turned to look at the other, who nodded, letting go of his hips, quickly, too quickly, Robbe noticed.

When he returned to the room, Sander, who still lying on the bed, stretched his arms in his direction, making his lower lip stick out, pouting. "Come back here!"

Robbe smiled and slipped into Sander's embrace. The boy took Robbe’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing him to raise his head, and kissed him, for the first time that morning. Robbe parted his lips, letting Sander's tongue meet his own. It was a different kiss from the one of the previous night, slow, deep and passionate. The butterflies in Robbe's stomach started to fly again, while he felt all of Sander’s longing merging with his own. The need they had to be closer and closer, now that they were finally reunited.

When they parted to catch some air, Sander's eyes were dark, full of desire, and Robbe felt goosebumps run all over his body because no one had ever looked at him that way, he was sure. And he wanted _it_ , he wanted the exact same thing, while he brushed his fingers on the boy’s cheek, without taking his gaze from those magnetic eyes, not even for a second.

"Sander." He whispered, letting silence fill the blanks. There was no need to add anything else.

"I'm afraid you will regret it," Sander said, in his deep, sweet voice, that sounded like a caress. And all the worry in his tone would have been enough, to make him change his mind if he wasn't already sure.

"I've never regretted _that night._ "

And this surprised Sander so clearly that he saw it on his face. Robbe's gaze didn’t waver, not even for a second, while the other was trying to detect any trace of lie. Despite everything that happened after their first time, it was the truth, he had never regretted giving himself to Sander, because he had never felt so loved as he was in that moment, and he wanted to tell him, but he couldn't.

Sander returned his smile and resumed kissing him, this time more gently, while he slipped his fingers under Robbe’s sweatshirt to touch his bare skin.

They got naked quickly, kissing each other’s lips, neck, chest, and every inch of skin they could reach. Then Robbe took Sander's hand in his own, and kissed the crook of his arm, brushing his lips up to the wrist where the tattoo was and left a wet kiss there too, and then on the palm, taking the index and middle fingers between the lips after that, swallowing them to the base, while looking into Sander’s eyes, who was completely enchanted, lost in that hypnotic movement.

With those same two fingers, Sander prepared Robbe, slowly, taking all the time in the world, and Robbe was sure he could come that way already.

"I hope you have lube and condoms this time." He joked with his eyes closed, while the other took care of him. Sander laughed, kissing Robbe's neck, who tilted his head inviting him to go on.

"Now that I'm thinking about it, I might be out of condoms." He replied, sitting on his heels, between Robbe's legs, who glanced at him.

"Are you seri-" he rolled his eyes, seeing the other laugh.

Robbe raised one leg and tried to push the other away, pressing his foot against the other’s chest. "Get 'em. I'm ready."

"Uh, so bossy." He gave him a mischievous grin and got out of bed, returning with a box of condoms and lube. Then he looked Robbe in his eyes. "Are you sure?" 

Robbe sat up, put a hand on Sander's neck, and nodded solemnly. "I am." Then he smiled, bowing his head. "Besides, this is not even my first time, so it's not that big of a deal." He joked, trying to lighten the mood, but the smile that Sander gave him had a hint of sadness, which Robbe tried to erase with a kiss.

"I'll do it." He said, taking a condom out of the box, and opening it. "I can't wait to be in a committed relationship just to get rid of these things." He carefully unrolled it down Sander's member, looking up again once he was done. "Now we’re both ready."

Sander pushed Robbe onto his back again, settling between his legs, "You're still so tiny." He whispered with his lips close to the boy’s ear, making Robbe snort. "Of course. I'm never gonna hear something sweet coming out of that mouth, right?"

Sander laughed with his mouth closed, nosing Robbe's neck while circling his rim with his fingers. He decided to add more lube, and then he pushed against the entrance, and Robbe's hands quickly went to grip Sander’s shoulders, while he felt him slowly slip inside until he almost reached the base. Robbe let out a soft cry, feeling himself being stretched more than he was used to.

Sander stopped to let him get used to it, slowly stroking his thighs, which were looped around his hips. "Sssh, relax, we can stop if it's too much."

It was, _too much_. 

Emotionally speaking, and that was why Robbe couldn't relax. Sander was there again, lying between his legs and filling him. He was no longer a distant thought in his head, a memory he was trying to forget. He was there, in flesh and blood. And all the questions that had hunted him for ages, were _still_ there too. Robbe had promised to stay true to himself, to always put himself first, and instead he was again ignoring everything, just to be with Sander.

_Why?_

"Just add some more lube and keep going, it's okay." He said, choking a bit on the last words.

The other did as he was told, without protesting, but before starting to move again, he took Robbe's hands in his own, intertwining their fingers, and holding them down on the pillow, near the boy’s head.

"You're so, so, so beautiful, _Robin._ "

Hearing that name, Robbe felt his heart stop, realizing he had never any chance against Sander. Robbe was always destined to fall, and fall, and fall. He had kept falling for him all those years, and now that Sander was there, looking at him like he was the center of his universe, Robbe’s last defense crumbled under its weight.

"Kiss me."

Sander obeyed, putting all of himself into that kiss, while he began to push himself slowly and deeply, making Robbe moan as he had never done in his life. He felt like he was dying and being reborn at the same time, while all the questions and words that he wanted to scream, got stuck in his throat. When Robbe finally reached the orgasm, he let himself go, sobbing while Sander was showering him with kisses. 

It was a bittersweet moment, for Robbe. He was happy because he was finally feeling a little more himself again, but also sad because he realized that that part of himself was so tied to the human being he had in his arms, that it ceased to exist in his absence.

Sander reached his peak shortly after and collapsed on Robbe’s chest. They stayed in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's proximity. Then Sander stood up, to get rid of the condom, and clean up both of them.

Robbe followed Sander's every move as if he was afraid of seeing him vanish at any moment. He felt again that frightened sixteen-year-old who had woken up alone, so he lightly brushed his fingers on the other boy’s hand to catch his attention.

"Don't leave me this time, please." Those words slipped out of his lips involuntarily, and he hated himself for saying them. For being so desperate and vulnerable. He couldn't stand that side of himself. But Sander just took him in his arms. "I'm not leaving."

Robbe laid his head on Sander's chest, with his ear pressed to his heart. He could hear it beating, slow and steady. It made everything a little more real. Even if the soreness in his ass was also helping. 

"Are you okay?" Sander, asked with a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he stroked his hair.

Robbe bent his arms under his chin, to look the other in his eyes. "Why are you asking that way?"

Sander shrugged, caressing the boy’s spine, from top to bottom and then again from bottom to top, in a continuous and reassuring movement. "I mean, it was good, really good actually, but you seemed somewhere else."

"Sorry." Robbe kissed his jaw, "It was really good, yeah." He smiled, pushing a lock of hair away from Sander’s forehead. “But it was also more intense than I thought. Emotionally speaking. it just came all to the surface."

"So that’s why you cried. Not because I'm a sex god." He said, trying to stay serious, but the corners of his lips were curled into a smile.

Robbe shook his head, laughing. "You became such an idiot." He sighed, touching the scar under Sander's eye. "But I missed you, and it hit me so hard before, because it’s been so long, and I thought I was over it, I mean, your absence, but I was just used to the feeling, I guess. It never actually disappeared." Admitting this to himself made him feel better somehow, perhaps because Sander was there, or perhaps because stop lying to yourself is always good. 

"I missed you too, and I'm so glad you came here yesterday. I wasn’t used to be in the same room with you anymore, and it was confusing. I was a mess because you seemed so fucking different, and there was nothing familiar I could reach to try to fix things between us."

In the previous weeks, whenever Robbe had looked at Sander, he had always seemed surrendered by an impregnable wall. Light years away from the person he grew up with. Closed and angry. Instead, they had both been misled by the possibility of being rejected.

"I know I owe you a crazy big and serious talk. But I'm stuck. I'm afraid I'll end up losing you again after that. I always thought that what I did was the only thing I could do at the time, but now I know it wasn’t. There were other options I couldn’t see, because I was so used to discuss everything with you to see something through, and the only time I didn’t, I fucked up big time."

Robbe nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Biiiig time."

Sander smiled, touching the tip of his nose with his index finger.

"Why the long hair?"

"To hide the tattoo."

Sander frowned, looking at the other questioningly. "The tattoo?"

In response, Robbe turned onto his back, brushing his hair back from his neck. Sander sat up for a better look and a little "Ow" slipped from his lips.

"Yeah." Robbe sighed, burying his face in the pillow, squeezing it in his arms, as he felt Sander climb on his body to lay completely flat on his skin. He kissed the tattoo, and hugged him, bringing his arms around his hips. That position was quite uncomfortable, but Robbe loved being so close to Sander, feeling his grounding weight on him, that he decided to stay quiet.

-

Sander opened the door, thanking the waiter. He took their breakfast to bring it into his room.

"I had never ordered room service before, it's so fancy."

Robbe was sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing only his boxers and Sander’s lilac sweatshirt, with the hood, pulled over his head. 

"Cute." He told Sander, while he collected his French toast, as the boy poured coffee into a cup. Suddenly someone knocked on the door, and they both looked confused at each other.

"Maybe they forgot something, we ordered so much food." Sander went back to open the door. Waiting in the hallway there was Jens, in a sort of Deja Vu from the previous evening, but at that moment Lucas was with him.

"Sorry to bother you, again, but since the last time it worked, have you seen Robbe?" He asked, and Sander turned pale. 

_Of course, he had seen Robbe, but..._

"Um-"

"I'm here!" Robbe yelled from the bed, and Jens pushed Sander away to reach his friend. 

"What are you doing here? I thought you ran away again."

"I'm having breakfast." He said, sipping his dark coffee.

"Babe, I think you're intruding," Lucas said softly, placing a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder, who began to look around.

Condoms and lube were on the bedside table. Robbe's clothes were still on the floor, leaving very little to the imagination.

"Are you guys sleeping together? I thought you were with Josh."

Robbe groaned, rolling up completely life a hedgehog, resting his head on his knee, making Sander laugh, as he watched the scene from aside. 

"I already told you so many times, just because we have sex, it doesn’t mean anything."

"Robbe, you're making a fucking mess. You can't sleep with our whole crew. Our team works because everyone gets along, but if they start fighting over you, it's gonna be a problem. You already missed a show!"

"Jens, come on, leave him be." Lucas tried to ease the tension, taking Jens away, but Jens stood there, glaring at his bandmate.

"It's our fucking job, Robbe. Why do I have to tell you every day? You just don't care!"

Robbe was livid. He instantly got out of the bed to face Jens, and although he was much shorter than him, he was still very intimidating.

"I hate everything about this job, and I wish I didn’t sign that stupid contract. I just wanna be left alone. This morning I wanted to go out with Sander to eat breakfast but I couldn’t! I wanna go on a date with him, but I can’t. All I can do is being in a fucking hotel room in my spare time. I feel trapped. And also, since you wanted to know so bad, if it wasn’t for this job, my mama would be still alive." Robbe shouted the last sentence, making it echo throughout the room, while he kept looking at Jens like a fury.

“I-I know how you are feeling, okay? It’s the same for me." Jens murmured, turning to look at his boyfriend. “I wish I could go to a cafeteria with Lucas and sat there with him while he eats all the cheesecake he wants. Or be there when he’ll graduate from college. I wish I could see my family face to face more often. But more than anything, I wish you told me how you were feeling sooner."

At that, Robbe nodded and looked up at Sander. “Sander is not just part of our crew or one of my hookups. We were best friends, and we were in love." He smiled, and Sander was immediately beside him. "It happened four years ago, and now I wanna see if there can be something between us again, given the new circumstances."

Sander kissed his shoulder, looping his arms around Robbe’s waist. They hadn't had time to discuss anything yet, but he was happy to hear those words out loud.

"I'm happy for you guys," Jens said, giving them a warm smile. 

"Me too," Lucas said, dragging his boyfriend out the door with him. "But now let's leave these two alone."   
  


Once they left the room, Robbe sighed deeply, turning to look at Sander, who in the meantime had sat on the bed again. "I'm sorry, my life is so fucking dramatic."

The boy smiled, planting a kiss on Robbe's lips. "I wanna take you on a date too, you know? Let me just think about it. And yeah, I don't have to, but it's what I want." He added before the other could protest.

Robbe grinned, going to sit near Sander, kissing his cheek. "Let's have breakfast now before everything gets cold."

-

As the day went on, Robbe couldn’t help but thinking he was dreaming. Maybe he had hit his head and at that moment he was actually in a coma. It would have made more sense because everything seemed surreal. Every kiss, caress, and word. 

The fact that they both were ignoring their past together, didn’t help the cause at all. They were living in a bubble that would pop sooner or later, and Robbe feared that moment. The slap in the face that would wake him up from that daydream. 

_Because it was what was going to happen, right?_

That couldn't be his life. He had managed to break all the good things in his life: his friendship with Sander, his job, his family. 

_That_ couldn’t be an exception.

Robbe and Sander were sitting in the bathtub, facing each other. They had decided to ask one another questions to see how much they had changed during those years because they realized that even their taste for breakfast wasn’t the same anymore.

"What's your favorite food?" Sander asked, stroking Robbe's thigh under the hot water.

"Probably fries."

"Healthy!" He laughed, raising both eyebrows. Some of his gestures had remained the same, and Robbe found comfort in it. As if something he knew hadn't been blown away by those years.

"I know, right?" He nodded, pretending to be serious. "How did you know I was there?" It was a sudden change of subject, but it was still a question, and Sander was _contractually_ obligated to answer by the rules of the game.

"Someone tagged you in a photo and geolocalized it." He simply said, tightening his fingers around Robbe's ankles, and pulling them to bring him closer to himself, while the boy unsuccessfully tried to mask the disappointment coming from that answer. He didn't know what he was expecting, but that whole day had seemed so magical that _maybe..._

"I can't read your mind, Robbe. It would be great, but I don’t."

Robbe tied his legs around Sander’s hips, closing the distance that was separating them.

"Are you telling _me,_ now? I'm the one who's talking nonstop since yesterday, while you just sat there, staring at me. I wish to know what’s going on in your mind. Are you panicking? Should I leave?"

Sander rolled his eyes, snorting. "I was just thinking," he paused briefly to collect his words. "I know we shouldn’t talk about our past, but I am truly sorry for what I did to you, Robbe. You have to believe me. I’ll never fully forgive myself, even if at that time, I meant well."

Robbe was staring at him, still. He had always believed he couldn't forgive Sander for what he did, but the truth was that he already did it. He had chosen to forgive him the moment he stepped into his room the night before. But it didn’t prevent him to acknowledge his pain. 

"You really hurt me. I know it sounds obvious, but you really did, to the point that that pain still affects most of my choices today." 

Sander nodded. His eyes were shiny, and he had a remorseful look on his face. He swallowed, lowering his gaze. "I really care about you. I always did, and what you told Jens before… I'm in. I wanna see if we can fix our relationship. If _I_ can fix my mistakes."

This left Robbe strangely surprised. He didn't expect to hear Sander set the record straight, right away. He was no longer used to simple, clear things, but that was a step in the right direction.

"Are you going to sleep with other people?"

"Are you going to sleep with other men?"

Robbe hadn't considered that aspect. He, very selfishly, just wanted Sander for himself. He couldn't even bear the thought of someone else having him the same way he did. But he didn't know if he was ready to give up his freedom. He didn't want to take it for granted and then regretting it. 

Robbe didn't want anyone else, but would it always be like that?

"I don't know." He replied simply, and Sander nodded, hugging him and kissing his forehead.

"It's okay, we can take it slowly, but remember to tell your boyfriend Josh that we have matching tattoos." He laughed, scratching the skin on the back of Robbe's neck, right where the tattoo was, to emphasize his point.

This made Robbe feel strangely turned on. That sense of ownership and belonging, the right Sander had over him through that tattoo, almost felt like a message of fate, laughing during their separation, knowing how things would turn out eventually.

_No matter what happens, you belong to him._

_No matter what happens, he belongs to you._

"Let's get out of here. I wanna ride you."

-

When they left Sander's room, _together_ , the bed was a pile of wet sheets, and there was no longer a surface where they hadn’t _celebrated,_ metaphorically speaking, their reunion. With much pleasure from Robbe’s side, the band’s manager asked Sander to take more pictures of their daily life.

_"You could photograph me like one of your french girls."_

_"Which one? I mean, the picture I took of Amelie is amazing, but Sophie is so hot."_

_"Okay, shut up."_

Thus, Sander had to travel with them instead of the crew.

It was strange to think that just a few weeks ago, Robbe was in a lounge room very similar to the one he and Sander were at the time, wondering if he would ever get what Lucas and Jens had.

Once they got out of the car that had taken them to the airport, a photographer captured them holding hands, and shortly after that photo had already been around the web, and everyone was proclaiming them as the new couple of the year. 

Meanwhile, Sander and Robbe had no idea how to define their relationship. A few hours earlier they had decided to take it slowly, but then they couldn’t let go of each other anymore, in fact, at that moment Robbe was snuggled on Sander’s lap, while they both were reading comments about them on his phone.

"Can you stop obsessing over those crappy shots and kiss me now?" Sander snorted, bumping his head against Robbe's forehead to get his attention.

"They are thirsting over you, and I hate it." He said, blocking his phone screen and throwing the device away from him on the sofa.

Sander raised an eyebrow, looking at the boy with a mischievous frown. "Are you jealous?"

Robbe considered lying for a moment, but then simply smiled, cupping Sander’s cheeks with his hands to brought his face closer, and kissed him, just because he could.

"I don't like sharing," Robbe murmured after they parted.

"Don't ask me why, but I was suspecting it." Sander smiled, nosing his cheek. "And for the record, I don't mind sharing." He went on, slowly, with a slick smile on his lips. "But sharing you it's a hard no for me."

"I thought you were cool with it!"

"I thought _you_ were cool with it!"

They both laughed, looking into each other's eyes. Communication between them was definitely something to work on.

"Okay, so... Are we exclusive?" Robbe murmured, biting his lower lip. There were too many clothes between him and Sander at that moment, and also too many hours before they would be alone again.

Sander nodded, pressing his lips against Robbe's. It took them four years but they could finally call each other _boyfriends._

"Look who's here!"

Moyo's voice made them return to reality.

"Hi!" They said in sync.

"Uh, that’s why Josh left with the rest of the crew this morning."

"Shut up, Moyo!" Robbe grunted, wrapping his arms around Sander's neck and resting his head on his shoulder.

"Sander, I have to tell you, he's a pain in the ass."

"Well-" Sander began to speak, but as if Robbe was reading his mind, he immediately put his hand on his boyfriend’s mouth to shut him up.

"Don't you fucking dare make one of your jokes about my ass." Robbe glared at Sander, who pretended to zip his lips together.

Jens handed a can to Robbe, giving him a small smile. "There I brought you your favorite soda, as an apology."

"Aw, thanks, Jens!" The boy got up, to hug his best friend, then returned to sit next to his boyfriend.

"I still think you should stop drinking so many soft drinks." He commented, pressing a kiss on Robbe’s shoulder.

"Sugar keeps me going, I told you."

"By the way," Aaron said, frowning. "I thought you guys hated each other."

Robbe and Sander exchanged a fond look, for the thousandth time that day. Perhaps the way they had deliberately avoided talking about what had happened in the past, was wrong, but at that moment, they were both incredibly happy, and most of the weight on their shoulders was gone. What was left could be faced a little by little, together.

"We still do, most of the time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an eventful chapter, uh?? Were things rushed? Maybe, but Sander and Robbe’s bond is so strong that it took them very little to fall for each other again. After all, as Robbe said, part of themselves only exists when they are in each other’s presence (🥺). Writing this chapter I often asked myself if Robbe was acting too submissive, but then I realized that it was quite the opposite. He’s strong and confident, because it takes a lot of courage to do what he did in this chapter. He’s not Sander’s naive boy anymore, even when he shows his vulnerability, it’s an act of bravery. I love him. What about Sander? I’m still trying to figure him out. What do you think?  
> I hope you guys liked this very long and fluffy chapter! Let me know what you think!  
> As always thanks for all the comments and kudos, and for the love you show me on Tumblr! It really keeps me going! Take care 🖤


	9. When it pops

A month had passed since those idyllic 24 hours. Robbe and Sander were finally a couple, and everything was moving in the right direction. Their natural chemistry was back, aided by Sander’s spontaneous propensity towards Robbe, and Robbe’s inability to keep his hands off Sander for more than five seconds. Their first barrage of questions was followed by many other q&a lists about the most random topics they could find on the web. At first, they had decided to ask only the funny ones, but then, as they felt more confident around each other, the questions became more serious, until they both opened up completely and their usual rivers of words gushed again. 

  
More or less.

Because although Robbe had told his boyfriend about how his mother had taken her own life a year earlier, Sander still hadn’t been able to confess his secret, and knowing how the woman died because of her depression, had made him even more insecure.  
Sande didn’t want his condition to awaken Robbe’s anxiety, and he didn’t want to change things between them. Sander didn’t need people’s pity, especially Robbe’s. He just wanted their relationship to be normal.

After the first week, in which they couldn’t even be apart for a second, the boys decided that staying in two different hotel rooms was useless, so basically, they were living together after only seven days of relationship.

Things weren’t bad, quite the opposite, indeed.

It all seemed part of one of those romantic films, all too perfect to be true, and they both were dreadfully waiting for when they would face reality.  
For now, sharing spaces was easy. Sharing life wasn’t only easy, it was wonderful. Making compromises, looking for solutions that would make both of them happy, communicating. Everything came to them so naturally that at that speed they would be married by the end of that year.

It was a night like any other, with a clear, starry sky, in a city somewhere in the world, when Robbe opened his eyes, finding himself almost surrounded by darkness. The only pale light came from the moon that shone behind the thick curtains hanged by the window. Beside him, Sander slept completely naked, lying on his side, curled up against his pillow. He had kicked off the blankets, something that happened often and which made Robbe laugh, given his opposite habit of sleeping completely rolled up in as many blankets as possible.

Robbe sat up and groped for the notebook on the bedside table in which he wrote down everything that went through his mind. He had got into the habit of leaving it near the bed because he often woke up at night with a melody in his head or words he needed to write down before he forgets them, and that night was no exception. He reached for the switch to turn on the small lamp next to the bed, but when he pushed it, all the lights in the suite went on simultaneously, making him temporarily blind.

“Fuck.”

“Robbeeee.” Sander complained, turning onto his stomach and burying his face against the pillow.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I pushed the wrong button.” He quickly turned off the lights in the room, switching on the small lamp on the bedside table. It was still too much for their eyes, but he needed it.

He crossed his legs, leaning his back on the headboard, took a pen, and wrote the words he had repeated over and over in his head since he opened his eyes.

“Hmm, what are you doing?” Sander asked in a raspy, sleepy voice.

Robbe looked at him for a second and couldn’t help but smile. He had a frown on his face, and his forehead was full of wrinkles. The pillow hid one of his eye, while the other was half-open, not yet used to the light. He looked adorable.

“I dreamt about a new song and I have to write it down before I forget everything.”

“Do you dream about new songs?”

“Yeah.”

Sander moved closer, rubbing his nose against Robbe’s thigh. That way he was completely shielded from the light and sleep was slowly taking hold of him again, as he blinked slower and slower.

“You should give your mind a break sometimes.” He muttered, slipping his hands between Robbe’s legs and grabbing his ankle.

“I really should.”

“Hmm.” He nodded, snuggling even closer, his eyes completely closed now.

His warm breath tickled Robbe’s skin slightly, making it a bit more difficult for him to stay focused, but he would never give up the comfort that their intertwined limbs gave him. He felt loved, even if they hadn’t said it out loud yet, every gesture, every moment they shared left no room for doubt.

“Baby, go back to sleep.” He whispered, running his fingers through Sander’s soft hair, while he tried to remember if that chord was flat or not. Without being able to take his guitar, it was hard to remember everything correctly. If he had been alone, he would already be playing, as he had done so many times in the past, not giving a damn about his neighbors, but now that he was with Sander, he needed to make compromises. He wrote both chords on his notebook to double-check them the next morning.

“I love when you call me that.” Sander smiled, kissing Robbe’s skin, completely at ease, while his thumb stroked his boyfriend’s ankle, in a slow and steady movement that had the power to relax both of them.

“I love calling you that.” He said, bending down slightly to kiss his forehead, and the other let out a content sigh.

“Good night, Robin.”

“Good night, baby.”

-

Robbe couldn’t explain to himself why it was a common opinion that working with your partner was a bad idea. He loved having Sander around all day; he knew that he only needed to take a few steps to receive his hourly dose of kisses and cuddles.

It was just over an hour before that evening’s concert, and from inside the dressing rooms, one could already hear the noise come from the vast crowd that was waiting for them in the building.

Robbe was tremendously happy, and he had also regained enthusiasm for his work, which until a few months earlier would have seemed an impossible task. The minor inconveniences that used to make him go nuts, no longer bothered him. Because of that, everyone’s mood had changed, not just his own.

At that moment he was in his dressing room, while Yara, his hairdresser, was styling his hair for the show. He was already wearing his stage clothes and would soon have to pick up the guitar to go on stage.

Sander knocked on the open door, showing his irresistible, bright smile. He was beautiful, magnetic.

“Can I take a few pictures of you guys?” He asked, raising the camera.

Robbe nodded, turning his face in his direction, and reaching out to bring him closer.

“Robin, pretend I’m not here.” He jokingly scolded him as he bent down slightly to take a picture.

“But I wanna a kiss!” He said, extending both arms and pouting like a child who has just been denied his favorite toy.

Sander laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, Robbe! I’m trying to work!”

“I’m your boss and I wanna a kiss.” He commented with a frown, in a vain attempt to be threatening, causing even more laughter in his boyfriend.

“Should I call HR?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as Yara laughed heartily, enjoying the scene.

“I’m done here. Try not to touch his hair too much!” The woman winked at Sander, gathering her things.

“Thanks, Yara.”

“No problem. Bye, guys!” She said, leaving the dressing room, going to groom the next member of the band.

Sander took a seat on the black leather sofa, while Robbe got up from his chair in front of the gigantic mirror and went to close the door.  
He sat down next to Sander and kissed his cheek, intertwining their fingers.

“I was thinking. You know we have to go back to Antwerp in a couple of weeks, to give like a hundred interviews?”

“Yup. They gave me an entire week off.” Sander brought Robbe’s hand to his lips to kiss it, and the other smiled fondly.

“What are you gonna do then?”

“Laundry.”

“Sander, I’m serious.” He said, sticking out his lower lip, looking at his boyfriend with his huge doe eyes.

“What are you trying to ask without asking?” Sander took Robbe’s legs to bring them on his lap, and the other got closer in an automatic gesture.

“I hate being with someone who knows me so well.”

“Yeah, must be terrible.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Come on, Robbe.”

The boy fiddled with the laces of Sander’s sweatshirt, to avoid his boyfriend’s gaze.

“I don’t wanna stay at my mama’s house.” He suddenly said all in one breath. “Last time I went there, I had a mental breakdown. I should buy a house for me or something, but I didn’t know if I wanted to stay in Antwerp for the rest of my life, so I’m kinda homeless.” He concluded, shrugging.

Sander raised both eyebrows, extending his arms on the backrest. “You could buy a whole hotel, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know, but-“

“You can stay at mine.” He said without letting Robbe finish the sentence. “You are going to put up with Senne, but we can also kick him out.”

Robbe’s face lit up with pure happiness, and he bit his lip, gripping the fabric of Sander’s sweatshirt with both hands. He hated wearing his stage clothes. He hated not to be pampered by his boyfriend as he wanted.

“It’s okay, I like Senne. He was my roommate once.”

“I know, he told me. He was the one who forced me to accept this job.” Sander cupped Robbe’s cheek, stroking his jaw with his thumb, smiling at his boyfriend, whose expression had changed from happy to outraged.

“You didn’t want to work with me?!” He asked dramatically.

“Did you?” Sander raised his eyebrow, tilting his head slightly.

Robbe rolled his eyes, crossing his arms on his chest. “Okay, fine, we’re even.” He snorted. “Did you tell your parents about us?”

“No. I wanted you to be okay with it first.”

“I’m okay with it. I miss them.” He said softly, remembering how many times he had wished to have them close during those years. When he was little, whenever his parents quarreled, Robbe went to take refuge at Sander’s house, where he was always welcomed, loved, and cuddled as if he was part of the family. He had often felt more at home with them than with his mother and father. Robbe couldn’t wait to hug them again, and he hoped that their relationship could go back to being what it once was.

“They miss you too. Mom is gonna cry when we tell her!”

“Can’t wait.” Robbe kissed his boyfriend’s lips, smiling. For the first time in over a year, he couldn’t wait to go back to his hometown.

Sander rubbed his nose against Robbe’s cheek, then kissed the soft spot under his ear, giving him goosebumps, as usual. “I’ll take you on a date. Don’t expect something fancy, though. Just a regular date, without people around.”

Robbe really couldn’t believe that that was his life, and that everything had changed so suddenly. Before, the days dragged on, all the same, painful and gray, one after the other. Instead, at that moment everything seemed beautiful, colorful, full of life, and he couldn’t wait to wake up in the morning to keep living that wonderful daydream.

“Sounds perfect.”

-

The evenings after a concert were perhaps the favorite moments of Robbe’s new routine. Coming home, which in their case was a hotel suite, together with Sander, was a feeling that soothed his soul. Knowing that together, they were building something lasting, made him feel like he wasn’t losing pieces of himself, every day, anymore.

Taking a shower together, ordering something to eat, and then getting to work on their things in the same space, knowing they just needed to look up to feel better right away, was what Robbe might have been looking for all his life.

At that moment he was plucking the strings of the guitar, working on the melody he had dreamed the previous night, while Sander was editing some photos of the show to upload right away on the band’s social networks.

There was a comforting silence that enveloped them, broken only by the sweet notes of Robbe’s guitar. When the boy looked up to retrieve something from his memory, he met his boyfriend’s eyes, which were fixed on him. Intense as usual.

“What?” He asked as he stopped playing, holding the strings with his left hand.

“I’ve said nothing.” Sander shrugged, looking back to the screen.

“Sander, we promise each other to work on our communication, but you have to cooperate.”

The boy nodded, remaining silent. Robbe saw him bite the inside of his cheek as he did when he was thinking and let him be for a while, waiting for the other to be ready to speak.

“Sex is great between us, right?”

“It is, yeah.” He smiled, tilting his head slightly.

Over the past two years, Robbe had accumulated enough experience to be completely sure of it. He had been with people whose names he hadn’t even asked for, or had had the same partner for more than a few months. He had been with more than one person at once, he had done it while he was drunk, sober, or in any other state, but none of that could be remotely compared to what he felt with Sander.

“Cool.” He replied smiling and returning to focus on his work.

Robbe rolled his eyes, snorting, and dropped the guitar on the sofa where he was at that moment, to reach his boyfriend who was sitting on the bed. “Saaander, come on! Spill it out!”

Sander closed the laptop and placed it on the bedside table next to him, to give all his attention to the other. He bit his lower lip, looking him in the eye as Robbe became more and more curious.

“Have you ever topped?”

“Yes, I did.” Robbe nodded, sensing the direction that the conversation was taking. “And you? Have you ever bottomed?”

“No, I didn’t,” Sander answered calmly, while the other sat closer to him, slowly stroking his thigh, smiling sweetly at him.

“Wanna try?” He whispered, his eyebrows waving cheekily.

Sander laughed, kissing Robbe’s face. “Yes. But like, how do you know you wanna switch?”

“It depends. Sometimes you wanna be the one in control, sometimes you are with someone and think about how hard you wanna fuck them. Sometimes you just wanna lie there and have someone take care of you.” He shrugged, then pressed a few kisses along the line of Sander’s jaw. He felt him tense under his caresses, and was looking for a way to make him relax.

“Have you ever thought about fucking me?”

“I thought about it a lot, actually.” He smiled, his lips pressed to his boyfriend’s neck. “You want me to fuck you until all you can do is moan my name? I’m very good at it.” He whispered, without stopping kissing the other, while with one hand he went up towards Sander’s groin.

“You’re such a show-off,” Sander commented, laughing, turning his face to meet Robbe’s lips. “Will you think less of me if I let you do it?”

“Do you think less of me because I love being fucked?”

“No, but it’s different.”

Robbe turned away from his boyfriend, frowning, suddenly angry at all the implications that that question brought with it.

“How? Bottoming doesn’t make you less of a man, and I’m pissed , now, since you clearly think so.”

For all of his life Robbe had fought against everyone and against himself to be free from the wrong conceptions of society. To be what he wanted, without having to worry about what others would thought, and thanks to the fame he had achieved, he could spread his message. Robbe lived surrounded by like-minded people, and he was wrongly convinced that the world had become a little more understanding. Instead, the very person he had chosen to love, showed the symptoms of everything he had fought so intensely.

“Robbe, I would never think that about you.” Sander looked shocked as Robbe’s anger grew by the minute.

“It’s not about me, it’s about your stupid heteronormative way of thinking. Educate yourself, dude!”

He probably shouldn’t have reacted that way. He should have tried to make the person in front of him understand his point, civilly. His boyfriend wasn’t an idiot and he would have understood, but the anger he felt towards Sander until a few months ago, was back and currently exploding like a volcano.

He got off the bed and started frantically running his hands through his hair, while the usual voice in his head urged him to calm down because that way he would have pushed Sander to leave again.

“Dude? Robbe, what the fuck? This is not about you or everyone else. It’s about me, okay?” Sander got up, trying to grab his hand, but Robbe drew it back, like a wounded, furious animal.

“Yeah, it’s always about you, isn’t it?” He spat those words, looking at his boyfriend, feeling guilty right after, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He could feel all the frustration accumulated because of the lack of answers, roaring in his chest. As expected, they both had been fools, thinking they could manage years and years of negative feelings, by simply ignoring them. “It’s been a month and I still haven’t heard the damn reason why you left me. I had been patient enough, but now I’m just tired.”

Sander had lowered his gaze as if he felt defeated by that conversation, and Robbe hoped to hear him say something, anything would have been enough, but silence fell heavily between them, as they stayed still.

It had taken so little to bring that impenetrable iron curtain down between them again, which they both naively thought they had destroyed, but in the end, it had always been there, ready to pull their relationship apart. They were like strangers who had nothing to say to each other.

“I can’t even look at you right now. I’m gonna sleep somewhere else.” Robbe said, turning away from him. Leaving behind the nightmare of their failure. Their love bubble had burst, and the pieces were lying on the floor.

“Yeah, sure. Just go to Josh or whatever.” Sander hissed between his teeth, clenching his fists until the knuckles turned white.

“At least he will fuck me without thinking I’m not a real man for that. I knew this was a mistake.” Robbe said in an act of vengeance, as he left the room, without giving Sander a chance to argue. He had hit just where he knew it would hurt Sander more, but in doing so, he inflicted the same pain to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter this week, yeah! I wanted to call it "short and evil" lol  
> You know, this had to happen at one point. I knew, you guys knew, Robbe and Sander knew.  
> Sander is being an idiot again, but his behavior is so rooted within himself that it is almost impossible to change it in such a small span of time. But the same thing is also true for Robbe, and we are going to see it in the next chapter. They are both suffering from their past trauma.  
> Btw, remember that this chapter was from Robbe's pov so what we see of Sander is only partial.  
> What do you think about it? Is there something you wanna read in the next chapters? I'm glad to hear your opinions! As always thanks for all your love.  
> Take care. x


	10. He left

When Robbe woke up that morning, for a moment what had happened the previous evening stayed out of his mind. He just had a strange feeling of emptiness in his belly. Then the memory of the fight hit him like a train, and he started crying, burying his face in his hands. He felt broken and alone. _Again_.

The fact that Sander, even when cornered, hadn’t given him the answers Robbe was looking for, made him feel as if there was no way out. He didn’t know if he wanted to be in a relationship, not knowing what happened that infamous night. Maybe he just needed to surrender to the fact that the being with Sander wasn’t right and would never work because although the boys love each other, there was always something that dragged them back to square one.

Robbe closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to be more rational, but he couldn’t. The only thing he wanted to do was hug his boyfriend, feel his warmth, his solid and reassuring grip.

He didn’t know what time it was, because all his belongings were in the other room, including his phone. Despite what he had said the evening before, he hadn’t slept with Josh. Robbe had gone to the reception and got the keys to another room, where he spent the night alone. His sleep was full of nightmares, in which he was left alone by the people he loved again, again and again.

After a while, Robbe got out of bed. He had to collect his stuff and to travel for half of the day, to get to the city where he would perform next.

The boy dragged himself along the hallways of the hotel until he reached the suite he shared with Sander. Part of himself hoped they could still work things out that morning.

He swiped the card into the reader; the door opened automatically, while Robbe was feeling his heart pounding in his chest. 

When he crossed the threshold, he stopped breathing.

Sander’s things were gone, and his suitcases had already been packed, placed neatly in a corner of the room. The guitar was in the case, his phone resting on a suitcase.

“Sander?” He tried to call his boyfriend, with his voice broken by a sob, but predictably, he heard nothing in return.

Robbe sat on the loveseat, trying to pull himself together, exactly as he had done so many times in the past, but the tears didn’t want to stop, and the wound in his chest that was healing, started to bleed again.

-

Robbe tossed his luggage into the minivan, and sat down next to Jens, slamming the door.

“We can go.” He said to the driver, snorting. He took the backpack off his shoulders, put it on his lap, and opened it, looking for his sunglasses.

After crying all of his tears for about half an hour, Robbe had done what came naturally to him. He had opened the minibar and drowned his sorrows in a glass, vodka, with a splash of Red Bull, because it was still morning, after all.

“Where is Sander?” Jens asked, after observing him in silence for a few minutes.

“Where is Lucas?” Robbe took his sunnies from the backpack, raising an eyebrow, looking at his best friend.

“ _My_ boyfriend is with Moyo and Aaron. He has to study for a test and he says I’m too distracting.” Jens wiggled both his eyebrows, sporting an alluring smile. “Where is _your_ boyfriend, instead?”

“I don’t know.” He replied dryly, wearing his sunglasses, happy to hide the last residue of sadness that hadn’t drowned in the alcohol.

“What happened?”

“We had a fight yesterday.” He paused, while the memories of the previous evening surfaced from the vodka. Revenant and even more painful than a few hours before. “I was right, but I might have said something stupid, and then I left the room.”

Jens scrunched his entire face, and that was exactly how Robbe felt when he woke up that morning. _Scrunched_. “Ouch. What did you say?”

“That I was going to Josh and ask him to top me.” Saying it out loud really made him realize how mean what he had done was, and that probably, all the trust he and Sander had rebuilt in those months, had been demolished in a split of a second by his impulsiveness.

“Robbeeee! What the fuck?!” Jens slapped a hand on his face, completely exasperated. “But you haven’t slept with Josh, right?”

“Of course not! But when I came back to our room this morning, Sander was gone.”

“Do you know if he left earlier with the rest of the crew?”

“Nope. Radio silence.”

Robbe sighed, checking his phone again, hoping to see Sander’s name appear on the screen, but there was nothing, of course.

“You need to learn this communication shit,” Jens murmured in a serious tone. 

One of the worst things was thinking about the fact that the first promise he and Sander had made when they decided to be a couple again, was be honest, and learn to communicate, but Robbe had messed everything up, not letting Sander have the chance to explain himself, precisely on such an intimate and delicate subject as his desires in bed.

If they ever fixed things, it would probably take Sander months before he would open up again.

“What if he left, Jens?” He asked with a hint of fear in his voice. He could never handle the thought of losing Sander.

“We’re going back to Antwerp in a week, at least this time you know where he lives.” Jens shrugged. It was practical advice and something concrete that Robbe could hold on to.

“I was right before I screwed everything up.” He whispered, frowning.

“Robbe, relationships aren’t about who is right or who is wrong. They are about sharing ideas and opinions. Making compromises when you can, or just agree on the fact that you might disagree about something. It’s not the end of the world, but, above all, calm the fuck down, or you will lose him.”

Robbe listened carefully to his best friend’s words, and nodded, looking down. “You make it sound so easy.”

Jens smiled, tilting his head. “It’s about time and practice. When you get angry, instead of screaming or leave, tell him why you are angry, explain yourself, make him explain himself better, wait, breathe. Don’t tell your boyfriend you’re going to sleep with someone else. It’s a hard no.”

Robbe sighed, biting his lip. “Lucas has really taken your balls hostage.”

Jens laughed out loud, throwing his head back. “Yeah,” he nodded, and his smile grew wider as he looked out the window, “He really has, hasn’t he?”

-

One thing that very few understood about Robbe was that the more hurt he was, the more anger he showed. An explosive rage that aimed at anyone whose intention was to coming closer. That was just another of his unhealthy coping mechanisms. 

Although he was small, he kept the entire crew under his reign of terror, and as soon as he got out of the minivan, slamming the door, the rumor immediately spread: the old tyrannical Robbe was back.

He entered the building and locked himself in his dressing room.

Robbe felt torn between conflicting feelings. On the one hand, he missed his boyfriend, and he just wanted to know where he was, but at the same time, he was tired of always being the only one who had to make the first move. He wanted a fair relationship.

That’s why he stayed all afternoon, mulling over everything they had said to each other the previous night, and about any further scenario. When the moment of the sound-check came, Robbe felt like a steamer ready to explode.

Without looking at anyone, he went straight to Josh’s station to gather his guitar, and as soon as he saw the mans’ face, the words he had said to Sander, during their fight, rang in his mind.

“Hi, Robbe!” Josh greeted him with his usual sweet smile, running his fingers through his curly black hair.

Robbe raised his hand and smiled back. “Can I have the Gibson? I need my comfort guitar today.”

“Um, are you sure? I left it in the truck. I wanna send it to the manufacturer. The tuners need to be changed.”

Robbe didn’t even hear a word of what Josh was saying, because when he looked up, he saw Sander, a few meters away, changing the lens on his camera. Seeing him still there, doing his job, gave Robbe tremendous relief, despite everything.

“Sorry, what did you say?” He turned his focus back to Josh, moving closer to him, placing a hand on his bicep.

“I was telling you, we should change the tuners of the Gibson.” The man repeated, patiently, as Robbe made him candy eyes, occasionally glancing at Sander.

Robbe was being insane. As if he was purposely trying to push Sander away. 

Knowing that his boyfriend hadn’t left, eventually made him even angrier, since Sander didn’t reach him out. 

Robbe felt ignore.

So he wanted to cause a reaction.

The boy wasn’t used to being loved in such a quiet, private way. He was used to people screaming their love at him every night. Why was the only person whose love he cared about, unable to show him his affection more openly?

The only logical explanation was that Sander didn’t love him enough.

Robbe had never been worthy of his love, and eventually he would lose Sander again, as he had already done years before. The only thing he would have left with, would have been that constant emptiness he had been carrying for four years. The abyss that sooner or later would have swallowed him again.

“How long it will take?” He said, pushing a curl away from Josh’s forehead, smiling slightly, remembering all the times he had done it during their most intimate moments.

Robbe lowered his gaze, finally intercepting Sander’s, who was staring at him with the saddest eyes Robbe had ever seen, and at that moment, he regretted everything he’d done since the night before. They had promised to tell each other everything, to learn to communicate properly, and Robbe had prevented him from doing so by getting angry, as if Sander were any stranger. Robbe knew how hard it was for his boyfriend to open up. He saw him struggle with it every day.

Maybe life hadn’t only hurt Robbe. If Sander had changed so much, something must have happened to him too.

Sander narrowed his lips, shaking his head, and turned his back to Robbe, walking towards the exit.

“I don’t know, a few weeks, maybe less.”

Robbe felt the crack in his chest become an abyss. He looked down, sighing. “You can change them, I trust you.”

Josh nodded and turned to take a guitar from Robbe’s collection, handing it to him. The boy wore the strap and took a pick, walking on the stage with Josh.

He felt slightly dizzy, but luckily, he had made those gestures so many times before, he could go on autopilot. Robbe switched on the guitar and turned up the volume, testing the tuning, playing a song that had never left the recording studio.

“This is my favorite song, it’s just beautiful,” Josh said, leaning on an amplifier. “Why you never play it on stage?”

Robbe paused, sighing, and turned the volume down again, rotating the knob with the palm of his right hand. “It wasn’t supposed to be on the album. It’s something I wrote for myself. I needed to let those thoughts out of my mind.”

Josh raised an eyebrow, completely hooked up. “Did it work?”

“Not really, they still hurt,” Robbe murmured, shaking his head.

Josh was soon beside him, gently stroking his cheek. “You have the most beautiful soul, Robbe, and I’m sorry someone made you suffer like that.”

“It’s just, I wish I could understand what went wrong, but every time I have the chance to talk to him, I end up screaming and he says nothing.” Robbe didn’t even know why he was telling Josh those things, but the man was also one of the people Robbe had opened up to the most, and somehow, he needed that conversation to stop feeling like he was about to explode.

“Maybe he has nothing to say.”

“Or maybe everything.”

They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, scanning their expressions, then Josh smiled and squeezed his shoulder.

“You trust the people you love too much, Robbe.” He winked, walking towards the stairs to get off the stage. “I’ll change the tuner myself during my week off, don’t worry.”

-

Despite everything, the show that night was one of the best of the entire tour. Robbe forced himself to stay focused and give all of himself during the performance, and so he did, to the point that, as soon as he got off the stage when the adrenaline started to worn off, his knees gave out and he was forced to sit down to regain his strength, while a small, worried crowd formed around him.

Now that there were no more distractions, he was feeling emotionally drained. 

He had glimpsed Sander that afternoon, but then his boyfriend was gone again, and neither of them had talked to each other.

Robbe looked around, feeling slightly suffocated by all that attention, mainly because any of those faces, that were keeping their eyes on him, belong to the only one he wanted there.

“Where is Sander?” He asked Lucas, trying not to let out the desperation he felt inside. He knew that Jens’s boyfriend and Sander had become friends, thanks to their shared interests, and perhaps he knew where he was.

The boy shrugged, giving Robbe a mortified look, “He left a few hours ago.”

Those words made him gasp as his head started spinning.

With the strength he had left in his body, he stood up, as the crew opened to let him pass. He had to leave that building as soon as possible.

He needed to be alone and fall apart.

-

Without saying goodbye to anyone, Robbe left the venue in a taxi to the hotel. He was determined to bottle his emotions for the entire trip. He didn’t want anyone to see him in that state: weak, desperate, vulnerable. But despite everything, as he looked out the window, at the dark street lit only by the street lamps, the tears started streaming down his face, like a raging river, out of control.

Robbe swallowed his sobs as he adjusted his hood to cover his face better. He couldn’t believe he was in that state again, for the same person. All the promises, he had made to himself during those years, had been shattered the moment Robbe let down his defense.

_Love shouldn’t hurt._

He told himself, but then he thought that even with his mother, it was the same. Robbe was never loved by someone, without having to lose a part of himself.

The boy got out of the car, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his jacket, and entered the hotel lobby, going directly to the reception to ask for the key to his room, hoping that his belongings had already been arranged in the suite. He needed something clean and comfortable to wear, and a shower.

“Here is your key-card. Mr. Driesen already took his when he arrived earlier.”

Those words shocked him completely. He blinked a few times, thinking he heard wrong. “Mr. Driesen is here?” He asked, incredulous.

“Yes, he arrived a couple of hours ago and he hasn’t left since then.”

Robbe collected the card from the counter, feeling his hands shake. He thanked the woman and hurried to the suite.

When he opened the door, in a strange Deja Vu of that same morning, with his breath short and his heart pounding in his chest, the boy was completely enveloped by darkness, and for a second he thought the receptionist had lied to him.

But when he switched on the lights and saw that Sander’s things were there, together with theirs, a sob almost escaped his lips, because of the relief he felt at that moment.

The bedroom was open, and on the bed, laid somebody covered by many blankets. 

Robbe frowned. It was unusual for Sander, whose automatic gesture was to kick the sheets at the foot of the bed. Therefore, he couldn’t be asleep.

Then something clicked in Robbe’s mind. 

Lights turned off, closed windows, heavy air. 

This whole situation felt like a weird flashback of one of his mother’s many episodes.

Robbe tried to ignore the lump forming in his throat and walked over to his boyfriend.

“You’re still here, after all.” He said, trying to break the tension, trying to sound pissed. He didn’t want to be the first to give up, he couldn’t always be the one to take the first step.

Sander didn’t move an inch. His head was completely hidden by the covers, but at least Robbe could see that he was breathing.

“This is not very mature of you.” He tried again, sitting on the bed. Starting to panic when he got no response again. Not even a hint.

Half of him already knew what was going on, the other half was still in denial. He hoped to see Sander emerge from the covers with his usual bright smile at any moment.

“Sander, what the hell is happening?” He asked, although this time he didn’t need an answer.

He approached the inert body of the bed, stroking the sheets where the silhouette of the boy’s head was.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He whispered, feeling the urge to cry for the umpteenth time during that endless day.

The change in his tone seemed to work, because Sander uncovered his head slowly, _too slowly_ , and stared at Robbe with tired, sunken eyes.

“Can I touch you?” Robbe asked softly, waiting for the other to nod before running his fingers through his hair. “Are you sick?”

“I am bipolar.” He said in a whisper and closed his eyes as if saying those words had cost him a piece of himself.

Robbe wasn’t surprised by that confession, given the signs he had been observing since he had crossed the threshold of the suite, but it still hurt him. It was as if all the people he loved most had to suffer the same painful fate.

“Are you having an episode?” He knew how indelicate it was to ask such a question, but he had to know, to help him.

Sander shook his head, “It’s just a shitty day.” He muttered wearily, and Robbe just wanted to hug him. Now that his mind had relaxed slightly, knowing he didn’t have to expect the worst, he realized how much he missed his boy, and how happy he was to have him back.

“When you have been diagnosed?”

“When I turned 18,” Sander replied, remaining still in his cocoon of blankets that shielded him from the outside world.

Robbe knew that all those questions were probably costing his boyfriend an incredible effort, but he had to know. Now that he was finally getting some answers, getting close to what he wanted to know, he couldn’t stop. “Why you didn’t tell me?”

“I was in denial.” He closed his eyes, sighing wearily. “And you already had to take care of your mama.”

Robbe nodded “So you left me there because of that.” It wasn’t a question. The truth, what he had been chasing all those years, what should have freed him from the weight he carried inside, eventually, had a bitter taste in his mouth. Because it made sense, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“I thought it was the right thing to do. To free you from all of this, but I also left you alone, and I hate myself for that.”

Sander moved slowly, sitting up as if that were the most tiring gesture he had ever made. He brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “I’m so sorry, Robbe. About this, about yesterday, about everything I did to you.”

“I would go through all those things again if I could have my mama back, and the same thing is true for you.” He said, looking for the other’s eyes, which however were fixed on his own feet.

Robbe wanted to come closer, caress his cheek, hug him, but he didn’t know if that affection would be appreciated or not.

“Sometimes I still think that maybe, if I didn’t accept this job, you would be with someone who wasn’t broken, who could make you feel safe and protected all the time. That’s what I was trying to tell you yesterday. When we have sex, it’s the only moment I feel in control. I don’t feel like there is something wrong with me, but if I give up control, what am I? I wasn’t talking about you or anybody else. You have to believe me.” He finally looked up. His gaze was different from the proud and confident one he wore every day. Sander’s eyes were lost, frightened, unsure, and this broke Robbe’s heart into a thousand pieces.

“You know why I came to you that day after you saved my life in that park?”

“I didn’t save your life.”

“You did,” Robbe said firmly, looking into his boyfriend’s eyes. He needed his full attention, to make Sander would understand how serious the words he was about to say were. Robbe grabbed Sander’s arm, squeezing it between his fingers. “When we were going back to the hotel, in that car, I felt safe for the first time in I don’t even know how long. I knew I could let go of control and nothing would happen to me because you were there. You’re the only one who makes me feel like I’m not a particle that is floating in space. You make me feel like I belong somewhere. Like a have roots, and a place to go where I can be just myself. Where I can be a silly 20 years old, and there is someone who loves every part of me, even the one I hate to show to the rest of the world. You’re not broken or weak, Sander. You have my entire life in your hands, and so much power over me, you could crush me at any moment, but you don’t. You just love me and take care of me every day.”

Sander wiped the tears streaming down his face with the sleeves of his sweatshirt and sighed, getting closer to his boyfriend, placing his forehead against Robbe’s. “I love you, Robin.” He whispered, almost imperceptibly.

Robbe smiled, feeling his heart skip a beat at those words and their true meaning. So obvious and natural to their relationship.

“I love you too.” He pressed his lips to Sander’s, closing his eyes and enjoying their closeness. Having his boyfriend in his arms again was like returning to breathe after 24 hours.

“Can you hold me while we lay down?”

“Of course.”

Sander laid on his side, and Robbe spooned him, rubbing his nose on the other’s nape, and then kissing it.

They remained in that position for a while, in silence, enjoying their newfound harmony, even though they both knew they had many other things to talk about. But the biggest secret was out in the sun, and they were still there, tight in each other’s arms.

“You know what happened after I saved you?” Sander whispered after a few moments, relaxing, as Robbe intertwined their legs to stay even closer.

The boy shook his head, tightening his grip on Sander’s chest.

“What happened?”

“You saved me right back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The truth is finally out!! I’m so relieved, even if they have so many things to sort out still. Robbe was a little shit in this chapter, right? Will he ever change? Who knows! I really wanna know what you think, guys. I’m sort of having a block and your feedbacks would be so helpful. As always thanks for all the love! Take care xx

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me here:  
> Tumblr @maade-of-stardust


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